


Paring

by Rivethart



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angry fish is angry, Angst, Burning, Chara is Female, Cinnamon Roll Papyrus, Comfort, Cutting, Eating Disorder, Family, Fluff, Gen, Genocide Timelines, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mama Bear Papyrus, Mettaton-Shaped Everything, Multi, NSSI, POV 2nd person, Protective Papyrus, Reader Is Frisk, Reader-Insert, Rewrite, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Sushi v toaster, blending timelines, sans can't people properly, smol murder babe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2018-09-08 07:19:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8835391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivethart/pseuds/Rivethart
Summary: You always had a knife, for every reset, every journey through the Underground. Just because you didn’t kill anybody with it, doesn’t mean you didn’t use it.
 
(A re-write of my previous Paring version)





	1. Chapter 1

            You were mad at Chara, and the specter wasn't exactly pleased with you either. The pair of you sat at the edge of the river that ran north of Snowdin, ignoring the fishing pole and its bobbing message trapped in the current. Despite not being visible beside you, in the reflection of the water Chara glared at you, arms crossed and a pout heavy on her lips. You ignored her ruby-red eyes and picked dirt from beneath your nails using your knife.

            It wasn't the toy knife, or the real knife. It was a slim knife meant for cutting fruits – short, with a heavy silver handle with a stylized orange etched at the end. You'd stolen it (repeatedly) from Toriel's cutlery drawer beneath the cooling pie in the kitchen, and kept it tucked at the small of your back, blade-down in your waistband. The tip was sharp, and worked well for what you needed.

            The reflection of Chara sighed, crossing her arms and glaring at you. "I'm not going to apologize," she snapped, shaking her dark bangs out of her face. "I was trying to _help_ you."

            Your expression remained calm, even as you dug the knife farther beneath your nail, drawing blood. "You killed everyone." You kept your tone as even as possible, though did nothing to mask the undertone of hurt beneath your words. "Twenty-four times."

            "I made you strong," Chara corrected, not meeting your eyes.

            "You ruined everything." You dug the blade beneath your next nail, the set of your shoulders relaxing as blood bubbled past the tip.

            Chara huffed and blustered for a moment, then vanished with an angry grumble, leaving your reflection alone in the river. You could still sense her, SOUL bond thrumming and telling you that she was still there, in the back of your mind. A quiet, stubborn presence, incapable of going farther but perfectly happy to ignore you.

            "HUMAN!"

            The knife slipped, slicing open the tip of your finger. You dropped the knife in the snow between your legs and stuck the bleeding digit in your mouth, grimacing at the coppery taste. The snow shook beneath you as bright red boots stomped it flat, coming to a stop behind you.

            "HUMAN!" Papyrus boomed again as you squeezed your thighs together, hiding the knife beneath your dark pants, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING OFF THE PATH?"

            You had to lean back and crane your neck to see the skeleton, who in turn was leaning over you, hands on hips as he beamed.

            "I'm watching the river!" You answered, injecting as much cheer in your voice as possible. "It's really pretty with the ice and snow floating in it."

            Papyrus straightened his pose and eyed the river, sockets squinting as he surveyed the sight. "Ah! Yes, it is a grand sight, isn't it? The great Snowmelt river feeds right into Waterfall and Hotland! It is a very hard working river." He hummed to himself, appreciating the busy-body river, no doubt comparing it to his own lazy-body brother.

            The two of you shared a surprisingly quiet moment, before Papyrus clapped his mittened hands and boomed, "We need to return to the path, HUMAN! We have many more puzzles to conquer!"

            Your smile grew more strained at the thought of moving and continuing the television rerun that was your life. "I'll be right there, Papyrus. I just have to do a, uh, human thing first."

            "Oh?" He tilted his head like a confused and adorable puppy. "What is this human ritual you need to take part in?"

            "It's – uh, well, it's kinda – private?" You hedged, shifting your legs against the ground and feeling the knife press against your pants. You doubted you could convince Papyrus (or Sans) that carrying around a knife was some kind of human ritual. "I just need some privacy for a minute," you flicked your gaze past him, down the path to the three-way intersection.

            "Hm? OH!" Papyrus struck a pose once again. "Of course, human! I shall wait for you at the next puzzle!" He flicked his scarf/cape combo over his shoulder and put his hands on his hips. "Join me when you are done doing whatever private human things you need to do!" He turned and strode confidently down the path. Once he'd vanished from sight, you pulled the knife from beneath your leg and brushed it off. The metal was uncomfortably cool now, and the slip of blood left from when you'd jammed it against your finger had frozen on the edge. You pulled up your pants and wiped the gooey blood off on your sock, out of sight of any curious monsters.

            The freezing cold knife went to its place at the small of your back, and a shudder ran all the way up to your shoulders as you stood. You threw one last glance at the river, but Chara didn't reappear. With a shrug, you trekked back down the path and continued east.

 

* * *

 

            "HUMAN!"

            Papyrus was booming at you before you'd even stepped foot on the long footbridge between Snowdin Forest and the small village itself. You slowed to a stop, grabbing onto the rope handrail and watching as he charged forward, making the bridge swing beneath his feet.

            "You have finally arrived for your final challenge!" The exuberant skeleton came to a stop a few feet away and posed, staying perfectly still even as the bridge rocked. "I, the GREAT PAPYRUS, present to you, the GAUNTLET of DEADLY TERROR!" He motioned to the hanging implements behind him. Spears, spikes, a flamethrower, a cannon, and Toby the dog on a rope, looking perfectly happy and completely clueless.

            At the far end of the bridge stood Sans, rocking back on his slippered heels and hands shoved in his pocket. He was watching the scene with half-lidded eyes, but when you met his sockets, his left eye flashed bright blue and yellow for a moment before becoming empty once more. You swallowed hard and turned your gaze away – you'd long thought that he could remember the resets like you could. If that were true, then Sans would remember the last twenty-five runs of you (not Chara – he didn't know Chara even existed, nobody did) killing his brother over and over again.

            Bile surged in your throat, and you fought it down as Papyrus began expounding on all the marvelous amenities of his puzzle. You did your best to refocus on him, glad to hear the familiar spiel after so many rounds of him giving up on challenging you with his puzzles.

            "HUMAN!" Papyrus stooped down, so you were face-to-face now, "You're crying!"

            You were? You pressed your palms to your cheeks and felt at the tear streaks in confusion. Why were you crying? When had you started?

            "I know it is quite beautiful," Papyrus reassured you, resting a heavy hand on your shoulder, "It makes me overjoyed to see a fellow puzzle lover overwhelmed with the greatness of this configuration!" His smile softened, becoming affectionate, and you jerked back from him as a memory, a fuzzy image, overlaid him – an image of his head falling from his shoulders, the kind smile of faith disappearing along with his body, turning to shock.

            Papyrus narrowly grabbed the back of your sweater as you leaned dangerously far over the rope railings of the bridge and vomited into the abyss below.

            "Human? HUMAN!" Papyrus' worried yelling echoed in your head, hurting your ears and making your brain ache. The skeleton pulled you back upright and held you at arm's length, eyeing you up and down. "Human, are you alright?" He demanded. "Is expelling fluids in that manner a regular part of a human's schedule?"

            "Nah, bro." At the sound of Sans voice right behind you, you jumped and screeched, crashing forward into Papyrus. He wrapped his long limbs around you in a tight hug, steadying you. "That's something humans do when they don't feel well."

            You could hear his slippers shuffle closer over the rough wood planks. "What's the matter kid? Something _bugging_ ya?" He snickered at his pun, and you groaned against Papyrus's chest plate.

            "Sans, puns are not conducive to proper health!" Papyrus chided, before sweeping you up into his arms. You made a surprised noise and threw your arms around his neck out of reflex. He shifted so one arm was beneath you, holding you against his chest. It made you feel like a toddler. "Are you alright human?"

            "Yeah, kid," a hand rested on your knee, and Sans peered up at you, a dangerous expression lurking beneath his laid-back smile, "You got something you need to _get off your chest?"_ He raised one brow.

            "I – I'm fine," you reassured Papyrus, ignoring the hidden meaning behind Sans words. "I think I just got dizzy. I, uh, I don't like heights much." You hedged, not wanting to admit that you'd been having flashbacks to his death.

            "Oh! Allow me to assist you, human!" Papyrus spun on his heel, nearly knocking Sans over, and rushed to the far end of the bridge before you could blink. "Ahah! We have conquered the 'heights' together, human!" He took several steps away from the cliffs edge and set you down beside the large Snowdin sign. "Now you have passed my gauntlet of puzzles!" He glanced back at the bridge, where the deadly tools still hung, and frowned. "Except for that one – well, it was far too difficult for a puzzler of your level!" He pulled out the remote and hit one of the buttons, making all the weapons vanish. "You will be up to it someday!"

            He stared at the bridge for a moment longer, then turned back to you. "Now, human," he cleared his throat and struck a pose, "Since you have bested my puzzles, the next test will be to best the one, the only – _ME_!" He flicked his head back and laughed boisterously into the sky. "I will await you on the far side of Snowdin! You will know you've reached it when you have passed the awesome house with the sparkly lights and skull flag!" Without waiting for a response, he dashed off, kicking up a plume of snow in his wake.

            You stared after him for a moment, trying to wrap your mind around the odd circumstances. It had been a long time since something so off-script had happened, and you weren't sure what to make of it.

            "Hey."

            The universe wasn't giving you time to think. You jumped a bit and stumbled over your feet as Sans spoke from beside you. He'd appeared without a noise, using his shortcuts you were sure. He didn't say anything about you 'falling' for him – in fact, he didn't make a pun at all.

            "If you're thinking of fighting my brother," his tone was calm and casual, even as his eye pips disappeared and his black-hole eyes turned to seemingly bore into your very SOUL. " **D O N ' T.** "

            The skeleton vanished right before your eyes with a parting wink, leaving you standing alone by the sign. You swallowed hard, trying not to think of the challenge and threat the bone bros had just shared. Scratching at your arm – the one you'd already used after leaving the Ruins – you ventured into Snowdin, hoping to find a spot of quiet to add a few more marks to quell the queasiness in your stomach.          


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle in the Mist

            You wanted to go to bed.

            _Stars_ , you wanted to sleep – curl up in the middle of the bed and pull all the blankets over you and never, _ever_ move again. Maybe for this run you could be a mummy, and stay put until the universe reset on its own. Hell, maybe if you stay in bed long enough the Barrier will shatter from pure apathy.

            The knife is on the bedside table, shiny and innocent beneath the lamplight. You'd scrubbed it clean after adding a few new lines to your arm, wiping and washing off the blood until the soap gave it a rainbow sheen. Your arm, in turn, was an ugly mess – the blood from the new lines had turned that odd gummy, tacky texture that came before the scab hardened. You wiped off the dried spots of blood and patted at the new scabs, then wrapped it in the bandage you'd gotten from the shop on your way to the inn.

            Chara didn't make an appearance, even though the bathroom had a large mirror above the sink that had plenty of room for the both of you. When you prodded at the back of your mind, you could sense her there, in a royal snit. If she didn’t want to talk, you weren't going to force her. You turned off the bathroom light and moved towards the bed, which was neatly made. The sheets released a plume of sweet-smelling laundry soap, and you wasted no time turning off the lamp and cuddling up in the thick, wool blankets.

            Sleep wasn't ready for you, though. Thoughts about the upcoming fight with Papyrus chased around worry over Sans thinly-veiled threat about said fight. Sans had never threatened you before the Bad 24 (as you called Chara's runs in your head). He obviously remembered _something_ about it. He couldn't remember everything, though – if he did, he would have killed you the second you stepped out of the Ruins, not offered you a whoopee-cushion handshake. Maybe he remembered that you were dangerous, but not that you'd killed Papyrus?

            Your stomach gave an uneasy twist at the thought, and the same flashback from before came back – Papyrus standing in the snow, arms open for a hug of friendship, while his head tumbled from his body, looking truly shocked at the failure of his plan. The cinnabunny you'd had for lunch threatened to make a reappearance, but you fought it down valiantly and rolled onto side, facing the window at the back of the room. Snow was falling softly outside the window, gathering in an ever-deepening pile on the window sill. You focused all your attention on the dancing flakes, forcing everything else out of mind.

            Next door the group of monsters that had rented the room were snoring in a rhythmic, musical way. It was surprisingly soothing, and within minutes you were adding in your own soft snores, the worry abating, to fester and wait until the morning.

 

* * *

 

            It was foggy. It was _always_ foggy. This one part of the path – the last stretch between Snowdin and the entrance to Waterfall – had a near-constant cloud of mist hanging in the air, thanks to the drastic temperature and the river racing by. You hated that Papyrus always wanted to fight here – it was difficult to see, even if you _were_ on a separate magical plane during the actual fighting. He always managed to surprise (and sometime scare) you when he hopped out of the fog and challenged you.

             Papyrus's going off-script yesterday wasn't helping your nerves either. He'd never said anything different before – and he'd _certainly_ never whisked you off the bridge in his arms when you lied about your fear of heights. And Sans had never, _ever_ threatened you. If he was serious and scared enough to threaten you out loud, then you _knew_ he would be watching both you and Papyrus like a hawk. That meant he was watching the soon-to-be-battlefield, and if you rose a hand against his brother, you could count on another swift death.

            Chara, normally a calming presence and the voice of reason when a panic attack began to creep up your spine, was still absent, still sulking in your head. You scratched at the cuts beneath your sleeve. You'd taken off the bandage that morning to let the wounds 'breathe' and heal faster, and pressing your fingers and nails against the cuts sent a small shock of pain up your arm. The panic abated a bit, and you took a deep breath of icy air. It burned your lungs, adding to the pain and helping you feel more in control.

            "HUMAN!"

            The panic rushed back and you jumped a foot in the air, away from the voice, and tumbled onto your rear in the snow. Papyrus loomed out of the fog, standing over you with hands on his hips and legs akimbo.

            "You have been standing here for an hour!" He declared, and you were both surprised and not that you'd been panicking for that long. "You are truly intimidated by my greatness, are you not?" He preened, looking proud of himself, and leaned forward some so he was looming over you a bit. "Are you prepared to battle the Mighty Papyrus?"

            You swallowed, hard, and pushed yourself up, nearly head-butting the skeleton when he didn't move fast enough. You mimicked his pose and gave him an insincere smile. "Of course I am, Mighty Papyrus!" He absolutely _beamed_ and held out his hand. He tugged out your SOUL, and the world slid into familiar monochrome scheme.

            Alphys had tried to explain this to you once, in a past timeline when she was your friend. It had eventually devolved into advanced magi-quantum mumbo-jumbo and comparisons to animes you'd never seen, but you think you got the gist. During an encounter, your consciousness went to your SOUL, and you saw what it saw: a black and white world, only able to identify other creatures with SOULs, aka your opponent. This was called the 'SOUL Plane.' You could interact with the world around you a little bit – if you fell while battling in Waterfall you could get wet, and if you fought a battle in Hotland for too long you could get overheated. It was a very odd feeling, one of simultaneous disconnect and complete awareness.

            Papyrus bounced in place across from you as an upbeat tempo began. You'd asked Alphys about the music as well. She'd explained that what you heard was the opponents SOUL, which created a tune unique to the monster, though families tended to have similar songs. You mentally shuddered – Sans fast, thumping techno with heavy bass and rapid-paced tune was a far cry from Papyrus own uniform song, which had a steady beat throughout with a tune that rolled up and down octaves like hills. It was just like him – bright, happy, and excitable. It matched his SOUL perfectly.

            You'd asked him once if your SOUL had a song, and the excitable skeleton had pulled you into an encounter in the middle of the kitchen and spent nearly half-an-hour simply staring at you, listening intently. He'd nearly been in tears when he informed you that no, your SOUL did not have a song – at least, not one he could hear. The tears were quick to dry, however, and he'd gone on to say that sometimes peoples SOULs were extra quiet and hard to hear when they were relaxed or sleepy, or even feeling shy, and not to worry. He was sure you had a song _somewhere_ in your SOUL, and said that he wanted to hear it once you found it. Then he'd ended the encounter, and you both returned to your right minds and realized that in the half-hour he'd been listening to you, the stove had caught fire and nearly destroyed the refrigerator. Sans had not been too pleased when he returned that night, and you'd wisely returned to Alphy's lab while he was dealing with the mess, figuring it was time to move on and face Mettaton anyway.

            "Human?"

            You'd wool-gathered all the way through Papyrus' spiel. You forced your mind back to the here-and-now and gave him your best smile. "I'm sorry, Papyrus," you apologized as the familiar four options popped up beneath your hands. "I was listening to your SOUL. You have really great music."

            "Nyeh-heh! Why thank you human!" A slight blush – gray in this black-and-white world, though you knew it was orange in reality – dusted his cheekbones, and he had to clear his throat before beginning anew. "Compliments will not save you, however! You shall not – _oh what is it they say in the movies?_ – peanut-butter me up!"

            Even when trying to be fearsome, he was an adorable cinnabunny, and you had to try very, _very_ hard not to giggle at his words. He took in the minute jerks of your shoulders and cackled, scarf tail flapping in the mist.

            "Aha! I see my threat has made you tremble in fear!" He summoned a long bone – femur, perhaps? – and pointed it at you like a sword. "Let us battle, human! And fear not, I will be victorious!"

            The first wave of bones – a dozen or so, only a few inches above the ground, cut through the snow. You easily stepped over them, noting absently that the one on the far right was being held in the jaws of Toby the Dog, who was being dragged across the snow behind it. Papyrus muttered something about meddling canines, while you chose ACT, then CHECK.

 

            **_PAPYRUS –  ATK 20   DEF 20_**

**_He can see how fragile your SOUL is._ **

You froze, stomach giving a harsh twist, and were promptly swept off your feet by another wave of bone. The snow broke your fall a bit, and a puff of snow hit the air and settled over your sweater and face in a light layer of flakes. Papyrus cackled in victory, and when you managed to push yourself upright he was posing, scarf flapping in a non-existent breeze.

            "Do you forfeit, human?" He asked. "Surely you realize you cannot beat me!"

            It took a moment, but you got to your knees and pressed MERCY, then SPARE. "I don’t want to fight, Papyrus." You made it to your feet and brushed the snow off your face and sweater. "I would much rather be friends than enemies!"

            Papyrus paused, jaw dropping in surprise. He stuttered a bit, eyes lighting up for a moment, before growing stern again. "No! I cannot be friends with you!" He rested the back of his wrist on his forehead in a dramatic pose. "I know it is devastating to miss out on such a grand friendship, but capturing you is the only way for me to join the Royal Guard! Now, prepare for my _blue attack_!"

            A myriad of white and blue bones shot towards you, and with practiced ease you stopped-jumped-stopped around them. The all-too familiar feeling of gravity rejecting your autonomy had you falling to the ground once again, landing on your knees this time. Papyrus cackled as you struggled to your feet, fingers stinging from the cold. As soon as you were standing, he sent a wave of short bones at you. It took far too much effort to jump over them, and you nearly stumbled. Once you'd gotten your bearings, you hit MERCY and SPARE once more.

            "Please Papyrus, I don't want to fight. Can't we just be friends?"

            He refused, and the next few rounds followed the same pattern. Attack, jump, SPARE, refuse, rinse, repeat. Every round you grew heavier, SOUL dragging you down, ever closer to the bone attacks.

            "Alright human, prepare for my _SPECIAL ATTACK!_ " Papyrus raised both arms in a dramatic, sweeping gesture. A large bone emerged from the snow, only to immediately be tackled by a familiar annoying white dog. Toby happily dragged it off the battlefield, tail wagging like a fiend. Papyrus stared after him, jaw dropped in disbelief and eyes bugging in shock. Once Toby had flopped down several yards away to gnaw on his prize, the tall skeleton released an angry shriek and stomped several times before turning back to you. "Fine! Here's an absolutely normal attack!" He snapped, before sending a flurry of bones at you.

            Unlike the other times you'd battled Papyrus, this attack had far more speed and power behind it. You wondered if it was because Toby had interrupted the battle _twice_ this time, or if it was just another oddity of this run – an after effect of so many _bad_ runs at once. You jumped the first few rows of bones only to trip on the fourth. You faceplanted just as another row of bones rushed towards you, spelling out 'COOL DUDE' before crashing into your head. There was an explosion of white behind your eyes at the thudding pain, followed by concerned yelling, worried bark, and something touching your head and back.

            You'd never failed a battle against Papyrus before – you'd always lasted until the flirting became too much and he gave in. As someone mumbled in a worried tone and someone else barked, you couldn't help a small, hopeful thought.

 _Papyrus can finally join the Royal Guard_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like how this chapter turned out. All the rambling thoughts on SOULs and the music was fun to write out. I hope it all made sense!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks! I really appreciate them all. Merry Christmas and happy holidays!
> 
> Cheers, all you lovely Readers!
> 
> (Also, out of curiosity, I'm going to keep track of kudos/comments/bookmarks in the bottom of the notes. C - 8/ K - 57/ B - 11/ H - 419)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two more battles against the GREAT PAPYRUS! How will you fare?

            Chara was there when you woke - her face was reflected in the slightly-tarnished silver dog bowl Papyrus had filled with kibble, and for a moment, as the vestiges of sleep lingered, you could have sworn she looked worried.

            _Finally!_ Whatever worry the ghost may have had was swept aside and she scowled at you, sweeping aside dark bangs so you could see her brows furrow above rose-red eyes. _I thought that stupid skeleton had knocked you straight into a coma! Do you have any idea how boring that would be for me?_ She huffed and looked away, glaring at the far side of the small room.

            You ignored the pouting ghost in favor of looking around. Four walls, a pitched ceiling, a dirty floor, all made of pale wood that showed age, wear, and neglect. The area was small, barely big enough to be a room. There were a series of poles between the door and where you sat, similar to the ones that poked up through the bridge by Sans sentry station. Through the dirty window in the back wall you could see snow-covered trees and snowflakes drifting by.

            You’d been tucked into a large, surprisingly-comfortable dog bed and wrapped like a burrito in a black blanket patterned with little white skulls. When you sat up, a bit of white fell in front of your eyes, and you tugged on it. A white bandage, stained with splotches of red-brown blood, had been wrapped clumsily around your forehead. You coiled it on the ground beside you, then carefully probed at your forehead and scalp. There weren’t any open wounds - whatever had happened after Papyrus’ attack hit you had healed, and the lingering taste of non-licorice flavor lingering on your tongue explained why.

            Aside from the bed and the bowl of kibble, there was a squeaky toy and a folded piece of paper. You wiggled one arm out of the blanket burrito and nudged aside the toy, which let out a mournful half-squeak as it was ignored. The blue lines on the paper had leaked a bit with water damage, but the ink was dry and legible. Written in eerily-neat handwriting was a message from your attacker.

 

**Sorry, I have to lock you in the guest bedroom until Undyne arrives.**

**Feel free to make yourself at home!!! Refreshments and accommodations have been provided.**

**-Nyehfully yours, PAPYRUS**

 

            Guest bedroom? You glanced around the small room again, and finally placed it - the shed beside the brother's house. You’d never paid it any attention before, but the wood was the same color, the size seemed about right, and outside the window it was snowing, so you had to be in Snowdin. Rubbing at your face with your free hand, you thought about the fight.

            That last attack had taken you by surprise. Normally you were able to jump the wave of bones, the words, the bone on the skateboard, then the giant conga-line of bones that steadily got longer and taller without a problem - you had a sneaking suspicion that Papyrus always lifted you over the last ones to keep you from getting hurt. For the first time in a hundred runs (not counting the Bad 24) you’d been caught off guard by the attack, which had moved much faster than ever before and struck you with more power than any of the piddly little single-bone attacks had.

            Papyrus must have spared you after you lost consciousness and brought you to his ‘guest bedroom’ to heal. He’d done a good job - the lingering taste of monster candy and the bandaging showed that he’d been worried about you. You ran your hands through your hair once more, and couldn’t feel a bump or a bruise anywhere along your scalp. Curiously, you tugged up your sleeves and eyed the marks on your arms.

            They were all still there - neat, pink lines along your right arm from your time on the surface, puckering a bit where the razor blade or exacto knife had slipped and gone too deep, leaving ragged edges of skin that couldn’t knit back together smoothly. Your other arm, from wrist to inner elbow, was a chaotic order of red and brown and pink lines in various stages of healing, all a bit skewed but in a semblance of a line. You ran a finger over the cuts, wincing when your nail caught on the edge of a scab and pulled it a bit. All of them had been inflicted after falling, and each of them had to be re-made each Reset. It bothered you a bit - each mark meant something, and to have them all wiped away at the end of the day irked you, made you cut deeper and longer each run in the hope of permanence.

            The monster candy hadn’t done anything to affect the new cuts.

            You tugged down your sleeves after checking, making sure the cuts were covered and the sleeves dangled slightly over your fingers. Papyrus and Undyne could be back any moment, and you didn’t want to risk them finding out about your habit.

 _Are you really just going to wait for them?_  Chara asked, sounding bored. _Undyne won’t wait for the capital to kill you - she’ll shish-kebob you right here as soon as the door opens, then take your SOUL for Asgore._

            “She won’t do that,” you answered out loud, rubbing your arms through your sleeves, the skull blanket pooling in your lap and warming your knobby knees. It always felt weird to answer Chara inside your head - it made your skull tingle a bit, some kind of determination or magic at work to help you communicate. “Not in front of Papyrus.” You glanced at the door, then at the ‘barricade’ meant to keep you in, then back to Chara’s reflection in the side of the dog bowl. “Besides, he said he locked us in. What can we do?”

            The ghost snorted and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Go give it a try,” she pointed at the door. You hesitated, wanting to stay in the nice, warm dog bed, but after a few moments gave in and got up. Twirling the blanket around your shoulders like a cape, you ducked through the ‘barricade’ and eyed the door knob. The little locking mechanism was turned to the side, meaning the door was - wait.

            The little locking mechanism was on the _inside_.

            Chara laughed inside your head as you twisted the little knob and pushed the door open. Nobody was around, though the snow in front of the door had large boot prints in it, beside smaller slipper prints. Sans and Papyrus had been here, but were gone now. The silently falling snow had only managed to soften the edges of the indents, so they hadn’t been gone long.

            _You were only out half-an-hour or so_ , Chara answered the unasked question. _Papyrus left maybe ten minutes ago. If we hurry, you can hide before that fish-bitch gets here._

            “Don’t call her that,” you muttered beneath your breath, peering around the door at the two-story cabin next door. The lights were on, but it didn’t seem like anybody was home. You checked your inventory, glad to find the butterscotch pie and handful of cinnabunnies safely stored in your phone’s inventory (God bless monster ingenuity!), then forged ahead into the snow and turned, with a bit of hesitation, towards the misty side of the path. Hopefully Papyrus had reached Waterfall by now, and wouldn’t be jumping out and surprising you once again.

            “HUMAN!”

            Dammit. At least this time you managed to stay on your feet.

            Papyrus frowned and hurried towards you, strides closing the murky distance in mere moments. “What are you doing out of the guest room?” He demanded, resting a gloved hand on your head. “How did you even get out of the guest room? My barricade is impenetrable!” You were saved from having to come up with a lie as he gasped, clapping his hands to the side of his face as a blush crossed his cheek bones. “It’s very impossible to escape that room! Amazing! You must have really wanted to see me again!” He grabbed your hands and squeezed them, then took in your appearance. “And it seems as though you like my blanket, as well. Is it not the coolest?” He tugged on the corner hanging over your shoulder, beaming at the skull-patterned cloth. “Sans got it for me with his very first paycheck! It is very special to me!”

            You immediately shrugged the blanket off and held it out to him. “Here,” you offered, “you should have it back then. I don’t want to rip it.”

            Papyrus scoffed and took it from your hands, then in a twirly move had it back around your shoulders. “Nonsense! You need it far more than I do in this environment! Besides, the cold goes right through me!”

            You couldn’t help it - you giggled. Papyrus paused with his jaw hanging wide, then let out a screech of rage. “No! Sans puns have infected me!” He groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “Ugh. I apologize human, I did not mean to subject you to such awful word play.”

            “It’s alright, Papyrus,” you beamed at him, and he was so going to hate you but Chara had thought it and was now encouraging you to say it, and even if you were still miffed at her it was too good an opportunity to pass off, “I thought it was a real rib-tickler!”

            Silence. Your grin grows taut as Papyrus stares at you, empty eye sockets and torn expression radiating disapproval and disappointment. You’re about to apologize, to blame it on - well, not on Chara, but on Sans and his bad influence, because Papyrus will believe that - but he stops you before you can even utter the beginnings of a ‘sorry.’

            “Human,” he scolds, “You are very clever! But it will take more than puns to distract me!” He poses, scarf-cape combo fluttering grandly behind him in a non-existent wind. “I will capture you once more, and then deliver you to Undyne so that I may finally join the royal guard!”

            “But Papyrus-”

            It’s too late. He had already summoned your SOUL, and the battle begins anew. You hold your own pretty well, and make it to the point when Papyrus summons his special attack. Toby leaps out of nowhere and seizes the bone in his mouth, and the skeleton tries to shake him off. He rattles his arm hard enough that the attack - and its canine passenger - go flying, and you only have time to curse your luck before both dog and bone crash into your chest, sending you head over heels and depleting most of your already dwindling HP.

 

* * *

 

            _That. Was. Hilarious._

            If there was ever a time you wanted to smack Chara, it was now. You’re back in the ‘guest bedroom,’ tucked in the dog bed with the skull blanket, a new note waiting beside the dog bowl. Your kibble had been upgraded and now includes pieces of hotdog (or maybe hot cat?) and beside the squeaky toy is a book of Sudoku puzzles, though there’s no pencil in sight.

            _Seriously, that was great. Taken out by Toby the Annoying Dog? Brilliant. I love this run. It is the best run._ Chara chatters happily as you sit up and touch your chest. The taste of monster candy is thick in your mouth, making your teeth hurt, but there’s no pain on your sternum or ribs. The bone had hit you hard enough to knock your breath away and hit the ground, sapping the last of your HP and forcing you to black out. It seemed Nurse Papyrus had, once again, saved you.

 _He was really worried_. You’d tuned out Chara, but at her suddenly sober tone you listened to the ghost once more. _He grabbed Toby and threw him all the way across the river! Dumb dog was smiling and panting the whole time, too. Do you think Toby is really a dog, or is he just a really, REALLY stupid monster?_

            Ah, back to insulting monsters. You turned your attention to the new note (which you noted, heh, had been written on the back of the first note).

 

**Please ask before you escape!!! When I saw you on the road I was worried sick!!!**

**You need to rest and heal before taking on the Great Papyrus again!**

**~Slightly Bonetrousled, Papyrus**

 

            _Aw,_ Chara cooed in the back of your head, _He was worried about you. I still can’t see why you won’t just give up and stay with these two boneheads. They obviously care about you._

            “Because,” you picked up a piece of the hot dog (hot cat?), picked off a crumb of kibble, and popped it into your mouth. While monster food could go cold, it couldn’t spoil, and the bit of ‘dog tasted good after going so long without a proper meal. You wanted to save the rest of the food for the fights ahead - Undyne, Mettaton, and Muffet were all challenging enemies, and the more you stocked up, the better. Besides, the kibble here in the Underground was different than aboveground - it was made of water sausages and flavoring, like most of the monster's meat, not snouts and entrails.

            _Because why?_ Chara prompted while you fished out another piece and ate it.

            “Because I have to get back to my family.” You wiped your hands off on your pants and re-tied your boots before standing and draping the blanket over your shoulders. Chara was silent for a moment, before a wave of disgust and distaste hit your mind like a typhoon, almost sending you to your knees.

            _Your FAMILY? That’s your excuse?_ She demanded, and in the slightly-dirty window you could see her reflection - an angry ghost stomping about, glaring at everything she couldn’t kick in anger in the room. She tried anyway, but her foot went straight through the bowl of kibble, barely disturbing it. _Your family HATES you!_

            “They do not,” you argued, though nobody would be convinced that you meant it with that tone of voice. “I mean, they have to miss me. It's been – what, three days now?"

            Chara scoffed. _They leave you for weeks on end. Why would they notice you're gone now?_

            "That's when they leave the _country_ , but they didn't have any trips planned. They'll have noticed by now that I'm gone! And even – even if they haven't, then the school will! It's October, they had to of noticed I'm gone by now!"

            _You go to a private school,_ Chara pointed out, settling for floating sourly in the middle of the room, arms crossed and bottom lip pushed out. _They'll think your parents took you on a jaunt around the world for fun._

"My parents have _never_ taken me out of the country," you pointed out, "I don't even have a passport!"

            _Do your teachers know that?_

            You paused, then sighed, shoulders slumping. "Let's just…forget about them for now." Clutching the blanket tighter, you ventured out of the shed, ignoring Chara's protesting huff.

            _You need to talk about this with SOMEONE!_ She hollered, and though you couldn't see her without a reflective surface, it was easy to imagine her with hands on hips, cheeks puffed out and tinted with an angry red flush.

            "Not you," you muttered, "and not today." You slammed the door shut, knocking a bit of snow off the roof. It landed on your head with a plop, and you growled, Chara's choice of topic having thrown your mind and mood into a bad space. Something familiar began to crawl beneath your skin but you shoved it away to a dark, out-of-the-way space. You had to face Papyrus once more, and that persistent itch would be a distraction.

            As predicted, Papyrus was lingering in the mist. You spotted him first this time – he was pacing back and forth, worrying his gloves between his fingers and clicking his teeth together. You hung back, watching as he spun on his heel and shuffled through the snow, which had already been shoveled aside to form a trench for his feet. The skeleton had obviously been at this for a while.

            "Something is wrong, Sans!" He exclaimed, coming to a stop at the southern side of the path. The lump of blue and white he was talking to shifted, and you stood on your tiptoes to see Sans reclining against a tree, half-covered in freshly fallen snow but looking quite content.

            "I dunno what you mean, Paps. The human seems fine to me." The comedian rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug.

            His brother sighed and tugged at his scarf. "Brother, you have barely spoken to them! Or seen them! The little human is – something is wrong. Their SOUL is…" He stopped and swallowed hard while Sans sat up a bit straighter, looking concerned now.

            "What, Paps? Do they have LV?" His near-permanent smile twisted down at the sides.

            "No!" The tall skeleton immediately refuted. "They have no LV at all, and only twenty HP!" His voice lowered, and he slumped a bit. "Sans, they – their SOUL is pale and thin. It – I've never seen anything like it, anything so…so _fragile_. It looks like it'll break at the lightest touch."

            Sans frowned, but slumped a bit more against the tree. "But bro, you've taken them out twice, and they've survived both times, right? They can't be as fragile as you think they are." He folded his hands behind his head and shut his eyes with a sigh. "I think you're getting too excited over meeting your first human, Paps. They're pretty hardy with all that skin and organs and stuff."

            "Perhaps." Papyrus turned to begin pacing and immediately spotted you, purple and blue sweater standing out in the white snow. "Oh, human!"

            Behind him, you barely saw a slip of black as Sans took one of his 'short cuts' out of the snow. You doubted he'd gone far, but didn't have time to dwell on it.

            "Human!" Papyrus looked you up and down sternly, eyeing your face for any leftover bruises and your chest for any marks, though what he thought he could see through your sweater was a mystery. "I am happy to see you up and about, though I clearly remember asking you to tell me before you attempted to escape again." He drew his hand down in the air, forming a bone from his magic and grasping it tightly. "This will be the last time we do battle," he declared with a grand sweep of his arm, "and you will be captured once and for all!"

            You allowed your shoulders to visibly droop and tightened the blanket about yourself. "Do we have to fight, Papyrus? I just want to be friends."

            The bone pointed at you wavered a bit, before the skeletons arm grew firm and he set his jaw. "I apologize, human, but I cannot be your friend! Catching you is the only way for me to prove my strength to Undyne and join the Royal Guard!" He posed for a moment, scarf flapping. "Now human, prepare yourself, for this will be our final battle!"

            He didn't give you an opportunity to try and back out or talk him out of the battle. Before you could blink he had your (previously mentioned as fragile and thin) SOUL in front of you. He hesitated a moment, then charged ahead with his opening attack. In no time at all you were blue and stumbling over speedy bones. Papyrus went slowly in the first few rounds, then began to speed up. You tried talking, joking, even flirting, but the skeletons worried gaze on your SOUL even as he attacked it quickly squashed any levity on the battlefield.

            In the back of your mind Chara threw out a few pointers, telling you when to jump and duck and spin out of the way. She helped you pick up on the quick patterns, but it wasn't enough. Within ten minutes your HP had been whittled down to a mere three points, and Papyrus was readying his final attack once more. Toby had yet to make an appearance, and you hoped he was still working on the large bone he'd stolen last fight.

            "Papyrus, please," you panted, pressing a hand to a stitch in your side, "I'm exhausted. Please, can we just be friends?"

            The bones slowed for a moment as Papyrus hesitated, before he sent them rushing forward again. "No! I apologize human, but I must do this!" A new wave of bones surged towards you, and even without Chara's swearing in your head you knew you wouldn't be able to avoid it. You shut your eyes and braced yourself for the pain, which hit hard only seconds later.

            Papyrus's boots crunched across the snow as you collapsed, your 'fragile' and 'thin' SOUL returning to your chest. "I am sorry human," you heard him whisper as large hands lifted you from the snow. "I would very much like to be you friend when this is all over and we reach the Surface!"

            Your SOUL thrummed with a shock of pain at the thought. _Me too, Papyrus_ , you thought sadly, _if only I would be alive to see it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This was fun to write - I actually started it at work today (Asgore bless Google Docs!) and couldn't leave it alone once I got home until I finished it. I hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos, I hope I'm able to live up to your expectations!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> (C 17/K 118/B 21/H 709)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks, fibs, and phosphorous, oh my!

            _"They don't love you."_

_Liam was at his computer, the latest in gaming desktops, though he wasn't playing anything at the moment. He had his feet thrown up on the desk, retro Air Jordan's still dirty from football practice and making a mess on his keyboard. He was paging through a handful of brochures, flipping through them with a bored gaze._

_You lingered by his door, forcing a frown on your lips to hide the hurt in your chest. "What do you want, Liam?" You voice quavered, and he smirked at the sign he was getting to you._

_"I just wanted to make sure you knew," he lightened his tone, as though the two of you were discussing the weather or school grades. "There's nothing worse than being blindsided by the truth." He wiggled the brochures at you._

_It was baiting, but you were curious. Liam rarely ever spoke with you – once he'd grown old enough to recognize the harsh words and looks of distaste your parents gave you, he'd distanced himself, not wanting to be bothered with you either. Since age three, he'd ignored you, walked away from you, spoken over you, and eventually disavowed you as his sibling. You wished you could hate him for it, but every time you'd tried all you could remember was the sweet child sitting in your lap as you read him picture books, pulling at your hair and fingers and demanding a hug before nap time._

_"What are those?" You carefully crossed the rug to stand near his desk, though you were far enough away to avoid his legs if he spun his computer chair around._

_"Look for yourself." Liam tossed them over with a bored sigh, and you scrambled to catch them. Most of them scattered to the floor, and your little brother let out an unkind snort at the sight. Frowning and blushing furiously, you gathered the brochures and stood, then backed away several feet. He watched you as you flipped through the brochures, examining the titles._

_**Miss Mable's Finishing School for Girls**_

**_St. Catherine's Catholic School for Young Ladies_ **

**_New Spring Boarding School_ **

**** _On and on they went – a dozen brochures for expensive, high-end boarding schools, all of them on the opposite side of the country, all of them for 'girls.' Your parents had never understood your insistence that you were non-binary – they were insistent that you were their daughter, when they were in a good enough mood to acknowledge that you were their child at all._

            _"You might want to start packing, sis." Liam gave you a smirk and a small wave. "Don't wanna get taken by surprise when our – I mean, MY – parents kick you out." He spun, taking his feet off the desk, and powered up his computer. "Now get the hell out – I've got stuff to do."_

_You left the room with a numb, heavy heart, the brochures crumpling in your hands as you clutched them to your chest. The richly decorated hallway swung before your eyes, and you had to press through the beginnings of your panic attack to reach your room, which was as far away from the center of the house and your brother and parents rooms as possible. As soon as the door clicked shut and locked behind you, you collapsed to the floor, dropping the brochures and giving in to the panic attack._

_Your brother was right – you did need to pack._

_You were leaving tonight._

 

* * *

 

            Chara didn't like it when you had nightmares – if she was asleep when you were, dreams with strong emotions could cross to her mind, and that meant that when you had nightmares, she had the same ones. Not for the first time you woke to her hollering to wake up, tears drying on your cheeks as the walls of your room faded, replaced by the small space of Papyrus' tool shed.

            _Finally!_ Chara's worried face appeared in the side of the dog bowl. _I hate that dream!_

            You frowned but didn’t correct her, instead shoving the memory deep beneath better thoughts. "So do I," you muttered instead, sitting up and shrugging off the skull blanket, which suddenly felt too stifling in the chilly room. You were still a bit upset with Chara about the whole 'genocide' thing, but it was nice to not be alone with such heavy thoughts.

            _Papyrus left another note,_ Chara pointed out when you sat without moving for a few minutes. You glanced down and spotted the note – another piece of water-spotted notebook paper, tucked beneath the edge of a plate of chilled spaghetti. You dragged one arm from the fluffy blanket (which Papyrus had tucked snugly around you once again) and picked up the note.

 

**Human! Please stay put this time!!!**

**I do not want to fret over your location again!!!**

**If you're just looking for a place to stay just ask!!!**

**Sans and I would be delighted to have you stay with us!!!**

**~Your Host Papyrus**

 

            You stared at the neat papyrus-font print, fingers worrying the edges of the worn paper. Chara shifted in the back of your mind, uncomfortable with your silent reaction. _Frisk…?_

            "This is wrong," you declared, crumpling the paper in your hands. "Something about this is – it just seems wrong." You dropped the paper beside the bed and stood, glancing at the window. It was growing dark out – late evening, if your understanding of how the magical-sun-moon schedule down here worked. There was a chance that if you left now, you could reach Waterfall while Papyrus was having a bedtime story read to him.

            _What are you doing? It's gonna be dark soon, you'll freeze to death out there!_ Chara scolded as you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and shuffled towards the door.

            "You did something to the timelines," you snapped accusingly, "I don't – nothing is going as it should." You cracked open the door and glanced at the road, which stood mercifully empty. The snow had dwindled to flurries, and the road was packed with the footprints of monsters who had already trundled home from work. "I don't know what to expect anymore."

            _You mean like real life?_ Chara sounded a bit put out at your accusation, and you paused at the comment. She was right – real life didn't repeat until you had every day, every movement, every conversation down to a memorized routine.

            "Real life doesn't have monsters trying to kill me on a regular basis," you pointed out, stepping into the snow and quietly shutting the door behind you. "The only way I can survive is by knowing what's coming."

            Chara huffed but didn't argue that point. _Real life is more exciting_ , she grunted, then went silent to stew at the back of your mind. Still feeling uneasy, you headed for Waterfall, crunching quickly through the snow. You didn't hesitate at the mist this time – you plunged ahead, squinting through the dense air, striding confidently right up to when you walked into Papyrus' white battle body armor.

            "Human! Why must you continue to ignore my notes?" Papyrus scolded, catching you before you could fall into the snow. He kept his hand wrapped around your arm, keeping you from bolting. "You will become ill if you keep running about after depleting your HP with our battles!"

            "Sorry," you swallowed, "I just – I want to go home, Papyrus. I – I have parents and a brother above ground, and – and they must be missing me by now." Chara scoffed sourly.

            Papyrus' face fell and his eyes widened. "Oh, human!" His voice softened, and he moved his hands to rest on your shoulders. "I never thought – of course, you must return to your family! There is nothing worse than not being with your loved ones." He gave your shoulders a squeeze, tears gathering in the corners of his sockets. "You must return to them, human, and soothe their broken hearts!"

            Mentally you joined Chara in scoffing at the kind if misguided sentiment. "Thanks, Papyrus. You're a good friend."

            The tears fled in favor of stars as Papyrus gasped, releasing you to clap his hands to his cheek. "Friend?" He asked, voice whispery in shock and amazement.

            "Yeah, friends." You nodded firmly, unable to help but smile at him. "You're a great friend, Paps. I'm glad I met you."

            "Oh human, I am happy I met you too!" The hyper skeleton swept you up in a tight hug, lifting you clear off the ground. After a moment and several 'nyehs!' of delight he set you down. "Now, you must be on your way!" He pointed towards the entrance to Waterfall, scarf flapping heroically behind him. "This path leads to Waterfall! It is very wet, so grab an umbrella if you see one. Follow the path and look out for Temmie Village – they are harmless, but sell these things called Temmie Flakes. They may look delicious, but they are very bad for you. After that is Hotland! You may not know this, but Hotland is very hot! I would suggest you take the elevators straight to the MTT Resort. It is run by my favorite sexy recta – I mean actor, Mettaton! Then you just need to go through the Core and through the palace to King Asgore. He is, well," Papyrus paused and rubbed at his chin. "Asgore is a big fluffy pushover! I'm certain if you tell him you miss your family and you want to return home, he will show you how to traverse the Barrier." He drew you into one more tight hug. "Return home safely, human! And tell your family I say hello!"

            You hugged him back fiercely, wishing you could just stand here and hug him for the entire night. When he released you, his phalanges caught on the edge of his blanket, which was still tucked around your shoulders.

            "Oh, I should give this back to you," you began to pull it off, only to have him push it back on your shoulders.

            "You should hold on to it, human. Keep it as a memento of your favorite heroic skeleton!" He eyed the blanket for a moment, then tugged the corners farther over your shoulder and tied it into a knot, creating your own cape. "There! Now you look like a true skeleton hero, like me!" He stepped back, hands on hips, and nodded at you. "Good luck, human! Feel free to visit!" With that, he turned and jogged home, leaving you alone in the mist. You waited until he'd disappeared into Snowdin proper before beginning your trek to Waterfall.

            _I will never understand why you insist on lying about them_ , Chara grumped when you passed into the dank cavern that heralded the beginning of Waterfall.

            "You're going to have to be more specific," you muttered in return, slowing your steps and looking at the phosphorous moss growing along the walls, lighting a path. Hesitantly, you reached out and ran a hand along one of the patched, scrunching your nose at the odd, bouncy texture.

            _You lie about your family,_ Chara said tersely, _about them missing you, LOVING you._

            "I didn't want to fight Papyrus again," you tried to excuse your actions, wiping glowing moss particles off on your pants and continuing down the path. If you remembered right, there was a small cave on the right side of the path that you could settle in for the night. You traced your hand along the wall, the wet stone sliding smoothly beneath your fingertips.

            _You didn't have to lie, though._

            "Chara, you just spent twenty-four runs MURDERING every monster that dared to look at you. Why does it bother you that I said a little white lie?"

            _Because it wasn't a little white lie,_ she bit, _and if you say something like that enough you'll start to believe it, and then when you get home it'll just be like the first time you figured out they don’t love you all over again!_

            The little dip that led to the cave came into sight, and you dropped to your knees and crawled through the tiny entrance to the cave proper. It was barely tall enough to stand in, and only had enough room to stretch out since you were so short, but the thick layer of glowing moss on the floor would make a good bed for the night. You untied the blanket from your neck and laid it on the moss, then laid yourself down on top of it. The fluffy fabric could, just barely, fold over enough to cover you, creating a fluffy taco instead of a comfortable blanket burrito. The water dripping down the walls and the distant muttering of echo flowers teased by the wind created a soothing white noise affect that had your eyes drooping, despite your three impromptu naps earlier that day.

            "Goodnight, Chara," you muttered, not deigning to answer her accusation.

            The ghost simmered angrily. _You can't run from this forever,_ she snapped, and you gave a soft, sour laugh.

            "I don't have to," you pointed out. "Once I've freed the monsters I won't have to run anymore." You sighed, a familiar peace falling over you, "I'll be able to disappear."

            The itch wiggled beneath your skin, but it wasn't invasive this time – it was anticipatory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks guys! You're all amazing, and I love and appreciate each and every one. I hope you enjoyed this chapter - ended up doing a few different versions before settling on this one. 
> 
> Don't worry, Sans will re-appear with all the drama and angst next chapter!
> 
> Cheers, loves!
> 
> (C 27/K 153/B 25/H 909)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it really arguing if you can't see the other person?

            _You dreamt about Toriel._

            It is with an amazing amount of restraint that you kept from biting Chara's head off. You’d woken feeling as tired as when going to bed, and you weren’t in the mood to hash out a dream sequence with the superstitious ghost. The moss had provided a good bed, though it was slightly flatter than before when you finally dragged yourself off of it. The blanket was damp but you still tied it around your neck, fastening it with a little knot the same way Papyrus had. The skulls gleamed dully in the phosphorous light, empty eye sockets seeming to watch you as you crawled out of your cave.

            _You can’t run away from your dreams, Frisk! Especially when they’re trying to tell you something!_   Chara chastised as you scooted into the tunnel and stood up. A passing Loox, wearing a suit and clutching a cup of coffee, gave you a bleary side-glance and half-a-wave before hurrying on.

            “They’re not telling me anything,” you hissed to Chara, waiting until the Loox was a good distance ahead before following, padding softly over the wet stones towards the first of the large caves.

            _You miss Toriel!_ Chara argued. _You’re running, again!  That’s all you ever do - you run away. Toriel wanted to adopt you and love you, so you ran away! Papyrus offered you a home, so you ran away! Your parents hate you so you ran away!_

            You froze mid-step and a passing Whimsalot nearly bowled you over. They squeaked an apology and rushed past, leaving a whiff of nightshade and bleach in their wake. With snail-like slowness you lowered your foot and stood, stiff and unbending, in the center of the tunnel. At your feet was a large puddle, and you could see Chara glaring up at you from the reflection deep within.

            "My parents love me," you told her firmly, glaring at the water. "They love me."

            The ghost's eyes flashed a dangerous red, and black began to seep into her corneas. _Love you? They don't even LIKE you!_ She hollered, stomping her foot. _They don't love you, they don't miss you, they don't CARE about you! How can you be so fucking blind?_

            Your SOUL gave a sharp pang, as though Chara's words had stabbed you right in the center of your chest. It came across as a flinch to the ghost, who gave a satisfied smirk at the sight.

            _See? Your SOUL knows what I'm talking about._ Her expression was insufferably smug.

            You slammed your foot down on the puddle. "Shut UP!" You screeched as the water soaked your shoe and sock. A bear monster dressed in corporate casual edged by you, eyeing you up and down like you actually posed a threat to his thick hide. He looked like he wanted to ask if you were okay, but his watch beeped and he hurried on with only a worried glance back.

            This was not a conversation to be having out in the open. You kicked the puddle, rippling Chara's reflection, then took a deep breath and drew back your shoulders. You stomped past the water, ignoring Chara's attempts to goad you into conversation again. It could wait until you had some privacy.

            The first cave, with a cathedral-esque ceiling and sparkling stones embedded in the wall, was almost the same as always. The goldfish monster was hanging out by the echo flower as always, typing away on his cell phone. Monster Kid was nowhere to be found, but you weren’t surprised – you normally ended up here in the afternoon or evening, when he was awake and out of school. Instead, several different monsters from both Snowdin and Waterfall were chatting with friends and coworkers as they trekked towards their jobs.

            Sans was asleep at his post as usual, a spot of ketchup at the corner of his mouth and pink slippers wet from melting snow. You were not in the mood to see if his opinion of you had changed – the last thing you needed was another thinly-veiled death threat. Luckily the horde of early-morning commuters gave you good cover – you fell into step in the crowd, avoiding the bear that had heard you yelling earlier, and was swept right past Sans and his station.

            As soon as the first cave had disappeared you slowed your step, falling behind the workers at the first waterfall. As soon as they were out of sight, and after checking that nobody was behind you, you abandoned the bridge and waded past the falling boulders to the falls. Your plunged your hands into the cold water and felt about for a moment, fingers sliding along slick stone until they met air. With a deep breath, you plunged through the fall and into the cave beyond.

            It was larger than the moss-bed cave, which wasn't saying much, but it provided you plenty of room to pace. The dingy tutu was sitting in a puddle against the far wall, mold creeping along the tulle ruffles. You ignored it, content with the orange bandana tucked in your pocket. Glancing around, you noted a flaw in your hiding spot – there were no sparkly sheets of rock on the wall, or puddles of water on the floor. Without a reflective surface, you couldn't properly argue with Chara. Grimacing, you pulled the knife from your jeans and carefully angled the blade in front of you. With a bit of twisting, Chara's fuming expression appeared, though only part of her face was visible.

            _You're an idiot_. Chara's nose wrinkled and her eyebrows pulled down over her bright red eyes. _And delusional. You're a delusional idiot. Your parents don't love you – they don't even like you, or want you!_

            "How do you know?" The knife shook in your hand as you glowered at her. "You've never met them, or talked to them, or even SEEN them! You don't know them!"

            _I know your dreams,_ Chara answered without pausing to think, _and your thoughts. Just because I can't look through your memories doesn't mean I can't put together what it was like for you up there. You were miserable – your parents left you alone all the time, your brother stopped loving you, but you still tried to get their attention! You did everything you could for them, and they still rejected you!_

            "You don’t know anything!" You snarled, wishing for barely a second that you could stab the annoying look off her face, though you took it back before the idea could fully form. "My parents love me, they just – they show it differently! They don't show it with hugs or – or by saying it! Not like Toriel!"

            _Speaking of Toriel,_ Chara latched onto your slip, _you dreamt about living with her and growing up in the Ruins. You wanted to stay with her – why didn't you? You could have been happy there._

            "I have to get back to my family," you repeated the lie, "and free all the monsters from the Underground. I promised I would."

            _Promised who?_

            "I promised myself." You tilted the knife slightly, cutting off Chara's eyes so you could only see her mouth and chin. "I'm going to free everybody, no matter what. Then – then we won't have to SAVE or LOAD or RESET anymore, we can – we can rest."

            _And once we're out on the surface, what are you going to do? About your family?_

            "I'll-" you paused, despite knowing the answer. You didn't want to share your plan with Chara. Despite her claim that she could read your thoughts, you were still able to keep things from her if you focused. "I'll figure it out when it happens." Beneath your skin the itch wiggled and scratched, begging to get out.

            _Toriel wanted to keep you, and you wanted to stay_ , Chara continued to harp, _and you left anyway. You broke her heart._

            " **I** broke her heart?" The burst of temper fueled the itch, which grew hot and vicious within you. "She kicked me out! She – she told me if I left, I couldn't return. That I had to stay or else." You dropped your arm, cutting Chara out of sight completely, and shifted so you could shove up your left sleeve and scratch at the skin beneath. "I would have come back," you muttered, your lungs squeezing together, unable to draw enough oxygen from the air, "I would have stayed. If she had just unlocked the door or picked up the phone, I would have come back."

            The scratching wasn't helping – you were a nail-biter, a nervous habit you couldn't break. It left you with stumpy crescents that couldn't properly snag your skin and tear it open. The heat was becoming unbearable, and the tightness of your chest grew with each second. If you didn't do something to fix it, you'd burst. Your figures tightened around the handle of the knife when it nearly slipped from your grasp, and the solution came with a shock of clarity that made you twitch sharply.

            You yanked your sleeve all the way over your elbow with your teeth and held your arm out in front of you. There were already cuts from this run, but they were few and left plenty of smooth canvas available. Normally you would take your time – leaving marks on your skin was a ritual, a way of regaining control and stopping the itch for a time. You cut as little as possible, always in even, equal lines from the inside of your elbow down. But now – it was as though the heat had taken the handle of the knife itself.

            The cuts were ugly and uneven, deeper than you'd ever made them before, blade see-sawing your skin open. Blood bubbled past the blade and dripped to the ground, splattering a cluster of the glowing mushrooms below. With a squeak, the fungi went dark, startling you into stilling. You took a deep breath and stared at your arm, the taste of dirty yarn thick on your tongue.

            _Are you done?_ Chara asked when you didn't move for a minute. Her face appeared in the blood-caked knife, eyeing you as though she expected you to fly off the handle again. It was an unnerving image, and you dropped the knife. It landed on the mushrooms, lighting them back up, then clattered to the ground.

            The six new cuts, deep and ragged, continued to bleed. You kept the sleeve in your mouth, doing your best to keep blood off your sweater, and fished out the bandana in your pocket. The cuts weren't too apart, and with practiced motions you were able to wrap them all up beneath the orange fabric. Streaks of crimson immediately began to seep through, creating an ugly, deep color that made your stomach twist. You dropped the sleeve, covering up the sight, and took a deep breath.

            You'd never lost control like that – it was the opposite of your reason for cutting in the first place. You sucked in a deep breath, which helped steady your hands a bit. The itch was gone, sated for now, taking the heat and crushing, suffocating feeling with it.  You took another breath and crouched down, picking up the knife. The tutu was only a foot away – you snagged it and used it to wipe off the blade. The pink tulle was ruined, but you didn't care – you tossed the fabric into the corner of the room and moved to tuck the blade into the back of your waistband.

            _Nuh-uh._ Your hand stopped, muscles tensing against your will, as Chara took control. She rarely tried to possess you before the Bad 24, and hadn't done it once this run. Now, however, the ghost had a firm hold of your arm and hand, and when you glance down you could see her glaring at you from the cleaned blade. _Hold it. What was that?_ She demanded, watching you intently.

            After a moment of floundering for an answer, you said "I got angry."

            _No shit,_ Chara's expression went flat. _You've been mad before, but you NEVER did this._ Her gaze flickered to the hidden cuts on your arm.

            "It's nothing," you muttered, "now give me my arm back."

            The ghost immediately scoffed. _No way. Not if you're going to do THAT next time you get upset._ She tossed the knife over your shoulder, out through the waterfall and into the river. It would be swept away, and you'd lose your answer to the itch for the rest of the run.

            "No!" You spun around, and felt your heart stop.

            "Hey, kid," Sans lazy gaze slipped past the knife blade, which hovered in a cloud of blue magic bare inches form his face. There was something dangerous and knowing in his eyes. " _Knife_ to see you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frisk's panic attack brought to you by my panic attack from a few nights ago. Ugh. Good writing resource, not a good thing to happen when driving. But it's all good now!
> 
> Enter Sans! I hope it lived up to your expectations. Thanks to Roccy for beta'ing part of it for me!
> 
> Also, a few of you asked about the update schedule, so here it is: Whenever I can. I'm starting my student teaching in a few weeks, which is basically a full-time unpaid internship. I'll have time to write, but not a lot - I'll be too busy hammering US history from Revolutionary War to Civil War into my sixth graders brains. I'll update when I can (fanfic writing is a great stress reliever for me) but it may not be as often as I want, or as you guys want. I'll do my best, though! 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments/kudos/bookmarks, I really appreciate them. I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment if you did!
> 
> (C 54/K 252/B 68/H 1654)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter you've been waiting for! Angry, puffy, marshmallow Sans!

            "What, not even a pity chuckle?" Sans drawled, plucking the knife from the air and examining it closely. Confusion clouded his eyes for a moment before his face smoothed out into a lazy grin once more. "C'mon, kiddo, that joke was a _cut_ above the rest." When you didn't answer, just tense and stare, he huffed a disappointed sight. "Wow, something has really got you on _edge_ , huh?"

            "Give it back." Your voice didn't sound like your own – it was thin and trembling, underlined by desperation.

            "Not very _sharp_ , are ya?" Sans smirked and tilted the knife until the point was trembling on his finger tip. A flicker of blue in his eye set the knife to spinning lazily, tantalizingly just out of your reach. You swallowed hard, hands twitching at your side. Sans smirk twitched into a frown, and the knife began to spin faster, becoming a blur before vanished in a crackling flash of blue.

            Your heart _stopped_. The knife – _your_ knife, not the toy knife, not the true knife, not a knife that had ever tasted monster dust – was gone. Your arm throbbed as the itch gnawed at the new wounds, using your shock to return and drag your panic back to the forefront of your mind.

            "Now I think it's time you and I get to the _point_."

            Did he – had he figured it out? You clasped your right hand around your left arm, lip twitching as you put pressure on the new cuts. The blanket shifted on your shoulders, and you winced as it brushed against your arm. You'd forgotten about the damp weight against your back in your rage, and with a pang of guilt you hoped you hadn't stained the special blanket with blood.

            "What're you doing with that?" Sans had noticed your line of sight and was glaring at the blanket. You released your arm to grasp at the knot near your throat. Panic gleefully gripped your heart, squeezing it painfully as you forced yourself to answer.

            "P-Papyrus gave it to me," you explained, fingers fiddling with the knot. It fell apart in your hands, and you pulled it over your shoulder. Your flight or fight response was flooding you with adrenaline, and you knew if you didn't get away from Sans soon you'd do or say something you'd regret. You had to distract him and get out of the cave before you broke. You took a few steps towards Sans and held the blanket out in front of you. "Here, you can have it back."

            With a swift motion, you threw the blanket at his head, covering him like a bad ghost costume. You took the opportunity to slam into him with your shoulder, using the fact that he had the same center of balance as you to knock him back on his boney butt. Thin fingers snatched at your feet as you dashed around him but you danced away and lunged through the waterfall. The cold water soaked and shocked you, and you nearly stumbled over one of the falling boulders. Wincing when your big toe hit the tumbling rock, you bit back a choice word and forged ahead, splashing out of the river and into the next tunnel.

            You could _feel_ the blue magic crackling behind you as Sans followed. You sprinted around a corner, nearly slipping on the slick ground, and wanted to cry in relief at the sight of a thick field of grass in front of you. Tripping over yourself you dove for the grass, which was nearly as tall as you were. On hands and knees, you crawled into the stalks, just as Sans footsteps reached the corner.

            The grass tickled and smelled odd, like seaweed and hay. You scrambled forward until you were in the thick of it, the tufted ends waving above your head and hiding you from sight. Sans footsteps stopped at the edge of the grass, and you could hear him grumbling a bit before there was a crackle of magic. Breath hissing between your teeth, you waited a moment, but couldn't feel him near anymore. With a heavy huff you rested your forehead on the dirt and tried to slow your racing heart.

            "Papyrus, you're _late_!"

            Oh, _shit_.

            With snail-like slowness, you raised your head and peeked upwards through the waving grass to see a familiar sight. Papyrus and Undyne were standing on the edge of the cliff above, facing each other. The captain tugged off her helmet and shook out her bright red locks, which had been fastened in a braid against her head, out of the way. Papyrus was facing her, rubbing his gloved hands together nervously, an anxious expression on his face.

            "You're _never_ late!" Undyne declared loudly, barring her razor-sharp maw. "What happened? You didn't run into the human, did you? Alphys is trying to keep an eye on it, but I swear if it tried to hurt you Papyrus, I'll gut it like a fish!" A long, sharp spear crackled to life in the captain's hand, magic arcing like lightning from the tip. Papyrus' expression grew nervous, and he glanced away from the fish and tapped his phalanges together.

            "Eh-heh, about that, Undyne," he seemed to hunch in on himself a bit, making him seem shorter than the captain. "I was actually hoping to ask you to maybe, um, _not_ kill the human?" He suggested weakly. His sudden hesitance stunned you, until you saw the look of rage on Undyne's face. You wouldn't be surprised to see _Sans_ cowed by that expression.

            " **WHAT**?" The fish didn't yell – instead, her voice was deadly quiet, the single word spoken in a violent whisper.

            Papyrus cringed a bit, then took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, puffing his chest out a bit. "Undyne," his voice had regained some of its vigor and volume, "The human is harmless." The fish scoffed but let the skeleton continue. "They haven't harmed a single monster, and when we fought they _never_ chose to attack! Not once in all three battles!"

            "Three?"

            "Yes, three! The human was so determined to befriend me they escaped the capture zone and faced me three times! Naturally I won every time," at this Papyrus put a hand on his chest and puffed a bit more, cape flapping in an odd wind and making him look rather heroic. "But even after being defeated by such a strong and handsome skeleton, they still wanted to be friends!"

            Undyne's ear fins drooped a bit at the admiration in his tone. The spear in her hand disappeared so she could rest it on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Papyrus, I'm glad you made a friend, but this is the last human we need to escape from here once and for all. The human _has_ to go to Asgore; we don't have a choice."

            Papyrus wilted. "Why _this_ human?" He asked weakly.

            Undyne sighed, looking upset at having made Papyrus sad. She pulled him into a one-armed hug, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry, Papyrus. I wish there was another way, but Asgore's decree…"

            "I understand." His voice was flat.

            Undyne swallowed hard and gave him a firm nod. "I won't hurt them if I can avoid it," she promised, and the steadily tightening tendrils of panic around your heart lessened – you hoped that meant skipping the whole spear-chucking-while-running-over-rickety-bridges routine. Papyrus looked at least a little comforted by the fact.

            "Thank you, Undyne," he wrapped her in a full-on hug, nearly lifting her off the ground.

            "No prob, Paps." She thumped his back, and he winced as he put her down. "Now get back to your post! You're a sentry, right? Go sentry-tise that forest!"

            Papyrus, at least a bit buoyed, gave her a sharp salute before leaving, though there were still lines of worry on his skull. Undyne looked rather upset herself until he was gone, then her expression hardened. She heaved a heavy sigh and replaced her helmet, taking a moment to tuck her hair back up beneath it. She summoned her spear and ran her thumb up and down the side of it for a moment, gazing sightlessly over the field of grass you were hiding in.

            You dropped your head back to the dirt once more, releasing a silent huff of air. After a few minutes Undyne clanked away and you let out a second, louder sigh of relief.

            _That. Was. Close._

            If you weren't so used to Chara randomly piping up in your head, you would have jumped and screamed in surprise. Instead you simply rolled onto your back and stared at the sparkling stones embedded in the ceiling, running the conversation through your mind and picking it apart. Papyrus had defended you, and Undyne had actually seemed…sympathetic? Undyne could be nice, you'd seen it before, but this was different – it lacked all of her usual bite and energy. And Papyrus had stood up for you this time! Normally he gave into Undyne's demands, respecting her as a captain and a friend, but this time he'd put his foot down and explained that you were friends.

            "Do you think she'll try and kill us this time?"

            _No, she said she wouldn't hurt us_.

            "She said she'd try and avoid it," you corrected.

            _Undyne won't risk disappointing Papyrus,_ Chara pointed out.

            The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, simply admiring the star-like stones in the cave ceiling. Your arm throbbed and when you lifted it to give it a look, you saw blood had soaked through your slapdash bandage and into your sleeve. There was a lot more blood than any other time you'd cut, but you didn’t think it was enough to panic about. You weren't dizzy or nauseas like that time last year when you'd cut too deep.

            After a few minutes of simply breathing and faux-star gazing you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and glanced around. The grass was still overhead, and you couldn't see either side of the path through the thick stalks. Slowly, you inched to your knees and lifted your eyes above the top. No Sans on the path towards Snowdin, no Sans on the path farther into Waterfall. The way on was clear, and you needed to leave before Sans came back. No doubt he was furious with you – he'd found you with a _knife_ , after all, and then you'd pushed him down and run away.

            _Yeah, he's probably super pissed_ , Chara agreed unhelpfully. _At least he left – probably went to wash that stupid blanket._

            "It's not stupid," you muttered mulishly and began wading through the grass, deeper into Waterfall. "I think it's sweet that Sans loves his brother so much."

            "Well that's _knife_ of you to say."

            You screamed this time – Sans had popped up right in front of you, looking non-too-happy. His gaze was flat and heavy, pinning you in place. His hands were in his hoodie pockets, feet in their pink, fuzzy slippers. To any passerby's he would seem completely relaxed and at ease. To you, he was a terrifying beast waiting to pounce.

            _He looks like a pissed-off marshmallow_ , Chara scoffed, not sharing your fear. She _had_ gone up against him in battle during a dozen different resets, and nearly defeated him once from what you remembered. As the ghost cackled, you took a tense step back.

            "Nope." Sans took a step forward, hand snapping out to grab your arm. "You aren't going anywhere until we have a nice, long _chat_." He tugged you closer, until your nose was nearly pressed against his nose-hole. He was only a few inches taller than you, but he used each centimeter to his advantage. You gulped hard, unable to see anything other than his eye sockets.

            Said eye sockets quirked a bit, bone brows dropping as his pinprick pupils darted down to the left. His hand, wrapped firmly around your left arm, tightened for a moment and it took everything you had not to flinch at the pressure on your cuts. Sans dropped your arm, revealing a boney palm covered with streaks of deep, ugly red. Before you could even entertain the idea of escaping, his clean hand seized your wrist and his bloody one pushed up your sleeve. As soon as the soggy fabric was past your elbow he picked at the bandana, gently tugging it partly off. The cuts had begun to scab over, unfortunately drying to the ruined orange fabric. The skeleton was still able to pull it up enough to see most of what you'd done to your skin.

            "Stars," he breathed, sockets blown wide. His gaze darted to your face, then back to the wounds. The tense lines on his face softened ever-so-slightly, and he gently pressed the bandana back in place and pulled your sleeve down. His hands moved to your shoulders, keeping you in place, and his searching gaze met yours. You swallowed hard, knowing just what to expect.

            _"WHAT have you done? Look at this mess!"_

_"What were you thinking? That is one of my best steak knives!"_

_"Look at the carpet – we'll have to refloor the entire room!"_

_"Do you have any idea what people will think if this gets out? How they'll judge us? I can't believe you would do this to us!"_

_"Go clean up, the doctor will be here soon. You will not mention this to ANYBODY or I will make some marks of my own, do you understand?"_

            _"We'll have to talk to a plastic surgeon about covering up any scars this causes."_

_"I can't believe you did this just to get attention."_

"Oh, kid…I'm _so sorry_."

            Large, warm arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to the skeletons chest and holding you there, cementing you in the now. Sans tucked your head beneath his chin and rubbed the space between your shoulder blades. You stiffened but Sans didn't release you – instead, he gave you a tight squeeze, then stepped back, though he kept his hands on your shoulders.

            "C'mon, Papyrus is making spaghetti for lunch. I'm sure he'd love for you to join us." Before you could agree or disagree, he pulled you back into a hug and stepped into one of his shortcuts, leaving only blood-smeared grass as proof of your being there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was very fun to write - and I think it is much better than the original! What do y'all think? 
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews, comments, kudos, etc. I really appreciate each and every one!
> 
> Cheers, loves!
> 
> (C 74/K 292/B 76/H 2048)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nurse Papyrus Returns!

            "Yo Paps, we're home!" Sans called, stepping out of his shortcut into his living room. He kept an arm tight around your shoulders, though you didn't know if it was meant to comfort you or keep you from bolting.

            "There you are, Sans! The spaghetti is almost ready!" Papyrus stuck his head out of the kitchen, beaming and wearing an apron with " ~~KISS~~ HIGHFIVE THE COOK" written on it. "Oh, human! Hello!"

            You swallowed and raised your clean hand in a semblance of a wave. Papyrus waited a moment, then cackled and posed. "Nyeh heh heh! I see my cooking armor has left you speechless!" He glanced at the pot boiling on the stove, then entered the living room proper. "Sans, what have you done to your jacket? It's covered in ketchup!"

            You shrugged off Sans arm and stepped back so you could look at him. The front of his hoodie was smeared with blood; when you glanced down at your arm you could see the sleeve was soaked with the same crimson stains. At least Sans would just play it off as being ketchup. You were sure he wouldn't want to upset his brother.

            "Nah, Paps, it ain't ketchup." Sans glanced down at his hoodie as well, frowning at the red streaks. "Can you grab the first aid kit, bro? The human needs some bandages." He shrugged off his jacket, revealing a plush, white turtleneck underneath.

            "Oh? Are you alright, human?" Papyrus rummaged about in the kitchen a moment while Sans ushered you over to the couch. The younger skeleton reappeared with a large white box in hand, a green heart carefully stenciled on the top. After sitting you down on the center cushion, Sans vanished with a whisper of displaced air, only to abruptly reappear with a shirt in hand. It was black cotton with the words 'BONE to be WILD' on the front, little white bones spelling out the word.

            "Here kiddo, put this on. It'll make it easier to wrap your arm up." He tossed it on your lap, then turned and eyed the far wall. Papyrus looked between the two of you, before an orange blush covered his cheeks.

            "Oh, right!" Once he'd turned, you reluctantly peeled off your sweater. Some of the yarn stuck to the bandana and the dried blood on your arm, but with a pained hiss you yanked it off. Blood sluggishly slid down your wrist, and you used your now-filthy sweater to wipe it off. Once you were sure it had slowed you tugged on the new shirt. The cotton was soft and well-worn – it may as well have been silk after wearing that scratchy sweater for so long.

            "HUMAN?!"

            Papyrus had turned to peek on your progress and was now staring at your arm, jaw agape at the spectacle that was your left arm. The mess of dried blood made it look far worse than it actually was.

            "Oh my stars!" Papyrus knelt down in front of you, setting the first aid kit down, and gently lifted your arm and examined what little of the wounds he could see. His expression grew serious, brows lowering into a flat, business-like expression you'd never seen before. "Sans, I need a bowl of warm water and some towels, the softest we have," he ordered, carefully rotating your arm and taking in everything he could.

            "Right away, boss," Sans moved to the kitchen and within moments was filling something at the sink and clattering around the cupboards. Papyrus removed his gloves, revealing long, thin phalanges. He opened the first aid kit and pulled out an alcohol swab, which he opened and wiped over his hands. He pulled out a second one before looking at your properly.

            "This may sting a bit," he warned, opening the silver packaging. Slowly, he peeled off the bandana, gently ripping open the newly formed scabs that couldn't be avoided. Fresh blood dribbled down your arm and onto your lap, though the skeleton did his best to catch what drops he could. "I have never healed a human before," he kept his voice gentle and even as he wiped at the dried blood, cleaning off your arm, "But the guard dogs like to scuffle and I've had to bandage them up more than once." He huffed a bit. "Doggo and Greater Dog argue over dog biscuits, and Dogamy and Dogaressa practice with their axes and sometimes get hurt. Though this," he looked at the red staining the tip of his fingers, rubbing the tacky blood between them in interest, "When a monster is hurt they shed dust, not, uh, blue-d, right?"

            "Blood," you corrected quietly as Sans came back into the room, holding a large metal bowl full of warm water and several towels thrown over his shoulder.

            "Ah yes, blood." Papyrus set aside the alcohol wipe and accepted the warm water. He wet one of the towels and ran it over your cuts, cleaning off the remaining blood and alcohol.

            "Why don't you just give them monster food?" You asked, wincing as some alcohol was pressed into one of the cuts. All your nerves jumped and yelled in pain at the contact, but you bit your bottom lip to keep from uttering a yelp.

            "Monster food doesn't cure everything," Sans joined in. He plopped down on the couch beside you, then shifted and wiggled so he was sitting with his back against the armrest, facing you. "Sides, Undyne says there's no food breaks in battle," his grin widened, as though he was remembering something. "Can't stop 'n cook ramen when you're fighting for your life."

            You immediately understood his humor and felt sick. If you'd been unsure of his memory before, there was no doubt now – he remembered, at least the last few runs.

            "Human? Your hands are shaking." While Sans had been busy unnerving you, Papyrus had found squares of gauze, as well as a roll of it. He'd set the squares over your cuts, then firmly wrapped your arm up and fastened it with a little silver clip. Thankful for the distraction you looked at the skeleton. With you sitting on the couch and him kneeling on the ground, you were almost at eye level – he still had an inch or five on you. The tall skeleton scooped up both your hands with his own and gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze. Then his brows dropped, and he made an unhappy hum.

            "Hmmm…something is not right." He stood up fast enough your hair fluttered around your face and nearly knocked over the bowl of dirty water at his side. "Wait here, human!" He dashed across the room to the small slanted door beneath the stairs. You stared as he threw it open, revealing a dryer sitting on top of a washing machine. It was thumping softly as the drum spun, stopping when Papyrus threw the round door open. He withdrew the soft, fluffy skull blanket, now clean and dry. With an approving hum he shut the dryer, shut the closet door, and hurried back over to the couch. "Human, stand up!" He demanded.

            You hesitantly pushed yourself to your feet, wanting to reach up and scratch at your arm, which had begun to itch beneath the bone brothers' gazes. Papyrus wasted no time in turning you into a burrito, wrapping the blanket snugly around your arms and chest with practiced motions. You wondered how many times he had made a Sans-rito before. By the time the younger skeleton was done you were unable to move your arms, which were held tightly at your side.

            "Nyeh heh! Behold, I have captured the human!" Papyrus teased, keeping a hand on your shoulder so you couldn’t tip over. He walked around you to sit on the couch, then gently pulled you into his lap. He pressed your back to his chest and wrapped his long arms around you, resting his chin on your head. "How do you feel, human?"

            You sunk into Paps arms and thought about it – how _did_ you feel? On the surface you were warm and safe, wrapped in both a comfortable and special blanket, as well as a comfortable and special skeleton. Your arm stung when you twitched it against the blanket, but it wasn't nearly as bad as when you'd first cut the skin, and Papyrus' soft, gentle touch had soothed a lot of the discomfort. On the surface, you were fine.

            On the inside you were panicking.

            Papyrus had sat on the couch at an angle, his back resting at the corner between the armrest and back of the couch. This meant you were partially-facing Sans, who was watching you with lidded eyes and a lazy grin, though the sharpness of his pupils showed he was anything but relaxed. He'd found you, and the knife, and _knew_ what you had done. Instead of yelling though, he'd hugged you and brought you home, where he and Papyrus treated your wounds. He hadn't yelled or locked you away or threatened to throw you out. It was…confusing. He hadn't been mad at all – actually, he'd seemed _sad_. It was not a reaction you were used to.

            At the same time he remembered what you had done in the last few runs – well, what Chara had done, but you were at fault as well. It was your body after all, you should have been able to control yourself. You prodded at the back of your mind and found Chara there, watching the events unfold silently. She seemed nervous as well – Sans throw away comment about the ramen (which she preferred to eat raw but took the time to cook to piss off the skeleton mid-battle) had shaken her. You were drawn away from her when Papyrus began to rub your shoulder.

            "Human?"

            He had moved his jaw, letting you twist and crane your head back to look up at him. The perpetually cheerful skeleton was frowning, his brows pitched in worry. He met your eyes and searched them for a moment. You don't know what he saw, but it did nothing to soothe the lines on his face.

            It was not a good look on him – you preferred the happy-go-lucky Papyrus who believed in everybody, no matter what. "I'm fine, Papyrus," you muttered, sinking back into him. He gave you a squeeze and rested his chin on your skull once more.

            "C'mon kiddo, no need to tell a _fibula_ around us." Sans scolded gently, his relaxed position shifting a bit as he pulled a hand out of his pocket. Your knife – not the toy or the true knife, _your_ knife – was held daintily in his boney fingers. " _Fine_ people don't go around slashin' up their arms," he chided, though he kept his tone gentle.

            "My brother, though lacking tact," Papyrus' voice grew stern for a moment and you could tell he was giving Sans a good glare, "is correct. You are most certainly not 'fine' human. In fact, I would go so far as to say you are very sad!" He gave you a squeeze. "Please, human, I do not like it when my friends are sad! Even if we are not 'besties' yet, I want to help you be happy!"

            "We aren't gonna judge, kid," Sans reassured you, tucking the knife back into his pocket, looking apologetic.

            "Of course not! You are our friend, h – er, goodness! I have been a terrible friend!" Papyrus gave you a tight, apologetic squeeze. "Human, I have not yet asked for your name!"

            You almost wanted to giggle – _that's_ what caused him to freak out? Not the random human appearing in his living room, clutching a severely bleeding limb and a bloody brother? "Frisk," you told them quietly.

            "Frisk? A great name for a great friend!" Papyrus settled back farther on the couch, reclining slightly. That naturally meant you had to lay back a bit as well. It was surprisingly comfortable – your parents were very 'hands off,' with you, and you hadn't really been held or cuddled in years.

            Papyrus moved his head a bit and brought one of his ungloved hands up to run his phalanges through your hair. You were surprised your short locks didn't get tangled in his fingers – with all those joints, certainly they'd snag, wouldn't they? Yet the skeleton continued to slide his hand through your hair like a brush through silk, and very slowly your shoulders began to fall.

            A hand touched your foot and you would have jerked upright, but Papyrus tightened the arm around your chest and made a soft, disapproving noise in his throat. You pried your eyelids, which had grown incredibly heavy for some reason, and squinted at Sans. He didn't look very happy, so you let your eyes fall shut once more to avoid seeing his frown.

            "Paps, we need to talk-"

            "Let them rest, brother. They have lost a lot of blue-d; if it's anything like losing dust, then they must be tired." One hand continued to work through your hair and stroke your head, while the other rubbed at the shoulder it was cupping.

            "But they-"

            "How willing were you to talk when I found out about _your_ habit?"

            There was an unhappy, heavy pause, and you relaxed more fully against Papyrus. You felt far too tired all of a sudden – surely adrenaline didn't wear off this quickly? Then again you were lacking quite a bit of blood…

            Papyrus shifted you to the side, so you were sideways on his lap, and rested the side of your head against his chest. The frills of his apron tickled your nose and you shifted your head a bit. Papyrus made a gentle noise and continued to straighten your hair.

            Falling asleep in the house of a monster who clearly had a bone to pick with you most likely wasn't the best idea, but with adrenaline spent and blood running low, you didn't have much choice. Cradled by a happily humming Papyrus, you fell asleep.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to keep Nurse Papyrus - I love his mother-henning side so much!
> 
> So the secret is out, and Frisk is using the old 'fall-asleep' cliche to avoid talking about it. Will it work? We shall see!
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments, kudos, and bookmarks! I appreciate each and every one, and I'm happy to see so many of you enjoying this re-write so far. Thank you for your encouragement and critiques!
> 
> Don't worry, this was just the fluffy lead up to the angsty conversation that will come next. Cheers y'all!
> 
> (C 106/K 337/B 84/H 2474)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strained chat...

            _Don't move,_ Chara hissed as your brain clawed its way out of muzzy dreamland. You stiffened beneath the blankets that had been piled on top of you, no longer burrito'd but free to move. A sharp mental pinch from Chara kept you from exploring your new-found freedom. Her reasoning quickly became apparent – the skeleton brothers were close by, and they were talking.

            "Do you think they will be alright, brother?" Papyrus whispered, and the low, calm tone of voice startled you – you hadn't known Papyrus _could_ whisper.

            "I dunno, Paps. They're hurtin' pretty bad," Sans answered, baritone contrasting his brothers higher voice.

            "I was not talking about their arms, Sans."

            "Neither was I."

            A heavy silence fell over the pair, and after a moment you dared to crack open one of your eyes. A myriad of action figures met your gaze, a sexy rectangle with to-die-for legs in the very front. It took a few blinks for your brain to catch up – you were in Papyrus' room, in his bed, swaddled in soft sheets and plush blankets. The room beyond the action figures was dark, lit only by thin strands of crystal light shifting through the window.

            "I'm frightened, Sans." The quietly-spoken words came from right outside of the door, and when you tucked your chin to your chest and peered at the end of the bed, you could see the door was open a crack. Neither skeleton was looking in, though their shadows shifted through the thin string of light from the hall. "What if they Fall Down?"

            There was a clank of bone on cloth as Sans patted his brothers back. "Hey Paps, chin up! Humans don't Fall Down like monsters do, and even if they are falling, I know you'll be there to catch 'em." His voice fell to barely above a whisper. "You caught me."

            A pregnant pause was broken by a proud, loud bray of **'NYEH-HEH-HEH**!' that was quickly smothered, replaced by a much quieter 'Nyeh-heh!' "You are correct, brother," Papyrus agreed quietly, his spirits buoyed. "Between the two of us we shall catch the human and lift them higher than ever!" With that cheerful metaphor his heavy boots clunked down the steps. There was a soft, amused huff, then a creak as Sans pushed open the door a bit. You hastily shut your eyes and forced your body to relax back into the soft mattress.

            Slippered feet crossed the fire-patterned rug, followed by the edge of the mattress dipping beneath the slight weight of the older skeleton. Chara had to remind you to breath normally or else give yourself away. The skeleton sighed heavily, emptying his non-existent lungs. "Yeesh, kid. You really flipped this run on its head." He tugged the blanket up around your ears, tucking it around you a bit. "How long have you been dealing with this? How many resets were 'cause you…" He trailed off, sighing heavily instead of finishing the thought. A familiar sick knot formed in your stomach, settling like a stone. "Well, you've got us this time." His voiced sounded more sure, and oddly hopeful. "We'll try and figure this out together."

            Sans didn't leave – instead he slipped off the edge of the bed and settled on the plush flame-patterned rug, leaning against the plywood racecar bedframe. With his back to you, it was safe to take a peek – he had his hands behind his head, skull tilted back so you could see the top edge of his closed eyelids. After a moment of silence he began to hum, a soft, familiar tune that made you think of rain and umbrellas. Chara muttered something about staying alert, but you were already half-way to dreamland with no return ticket.

 

* * *

 

            _Heads up, Papyrus is coming._

            Chara's warning pulled you from sleep just before the bedroom door was slammed open by an exuberant skeleton.

            "Sans! Human! I have finished preparing the supper spaghetti!" Papyrus bounced into the room, then paused when he caught sight of Sans. The older skeleton had his head tilted all the way back against the bed, eyes shut and teeth parted as he snored softly, blue drool clinging to his fanged canines. "Honestly, Sans, you could sleep anywhere! Even on a rampaging Gyftrots back!"

            You carefully sat up, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, as Papyrus swept his brother up in one arm, holding him like a sack of grain at his side. "Such a lazy-bones," Papyrus huffed, though there was obvious fondness in his tone. "Huma – I mean, Frisk! Dinner is prepared. Are you ready for a scrumptious spaghetti supper that will tantalize your tongue?"

            A hundred resets worth of barely-edible burnt spaghetti lingered on your taste buds, but that did nothing to dampen your smile. "I can't wait to try it, Papyrus." You told him, then squeaked when he swept you up with his free arm.

            "NYEH-HEH! Wonderful! Let us go feast!" He turned and bound out the room, into the hall, and down the steps. Beneath his other arm, Sans resumed snoring. Papyrus deposited the both of you on the couch – Sans against the arm rest, you in the center cushion – before lunging into the kitchen.

            "Heh. Isn't my bro the coolest?" Sans rearranged himself so he was slumping properly against the back of the couch, sinking into the cushions. You tensed a bit, the bandage on your arm beginning to itch, but he didn't beginning drilling you about the cuts and knife.

            "Yeah," you finally agreed, just as Papyrus danced back into the room like a tireless whirlwind. He had three plates piled high with spaghetti – one on each hand, a third perched on his head.

            "Dinner is served!" The lanky skeleton declared, pressing a warm china plate into your hand. The noodles looked soggy and burnt at the same time, and the sauce was mostly water, white tomato seeds and green bits of leaves still visible in the mishmash. "Bon appétit!"

            "Don't you mean-"

            " _Sans!"_

            " _-bone_ appétit?"

            You snorted into the pasta and Sans smiled proudly as his brother fumed and pouted. After a minute he huffed and plopped down on your other side, away from Sans. He dug into his pasta, and after a hesitant moment you lifted your fork and, tentatively, speared some of the noodles and popped them in your mouth.

            The taste was…indescribable.

            "Wow, what a passionate expression!" Papyrus gushed, already half-way finished with his plate. "You must really love it!"

            Swallowing the piping-hot-yet-somehow-frozen noodles you nodded, even as a green tinge came to your cheeks. The plate in your grip wavered, and some of the soupy-sauce splashed against the bandage on your injured arm.

            "Ah!" You righted the plate and grimaced at the soiled bandage. "Shoot," you leaned forward and set the plate on the coffee table, then tried to rub the sauce off the bandage.

            "Do not fret, Frisk!" Papyrus set his now-empty plate beside your own and put a hand on your back, stilling your frantic scrubbing motions. "While you and my lazy brother were napping, I went to the store and bought more bandages!" He glanced at the table on the far side of the room, the one containing their pet rock. "Sans, can you grab that bag for me, please?"

            Sans, who's own plate was clean now (though you were certain you hadn't seen him take a bite), glanced at the plastic bag sitting beside Rocky the pet rock. His left eye flashed with blue flame (which made your heart flutter and your SOUL jump in your chest), and the bag floated across the room to land in Papyrus' lap.

            "There ya go, bro."

            "Really, Sans? You could not even bother to get up?" Papyrus huffed as he began rifling through the bag. After a moment his impeccable manners won out. "Thank you," he grunted.

            "No prob." Sans set his own plate on the table, then twisted in his seat so he was facing you, back pressed against the armrest and legs folded in front of him. You shifted uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny, but the awkward feeling was cut off as Papyrus mirrored his brothers seat, then dragged you back into his lap. He had a few rolls of colored gauze in hand – the kind you'd seen at the blood drives your parents hosted. They were stretchy and after being wrapped around a donor's arm, the ends stuck together so the Red Cross people didn't have to use a lot. Somehow, Papyrus had found a wide variety of colors, each still clean and wrapped in plastic.

            "Gerson gave me these," Papyrus explained, laying the myriad of colors out on the now vacant central cushion. He was so tall that even with you settled in his lap, he barely had to bend over you to set the bags down. "When I told him I was helping an injured friend, he pulled out a huge box of them! He said they were left over from when he was training Undyne."

            Sans snorted but didn't comment, instead sinking deeper into the plush arm of the couch and settling his hands in his hoodie pockets. You smiled fondly as Papyrus straightened the line of bandages in front of you – Gerson, though a bit mistrustful of you in every run, was a kind old turtle who had never held your humanity against you when you were in control. He'd been far more… _odd_ , the last few runs when Chara went to him for supplies. He'd mentioned her being unable to kill him because he wasn't a hero. He'd been very angry, but had never pulled out his 'Hammer of Justice' to stop you.

            "Now human, which of these colorful bandages would you like to wear?" Papyrus asked, gesturing to the dozen or so packages. Red, blue, green, pink with white polka-dots, black with yellow smiley faces, and – oh, yes. Chara huffed in your mind as you pointed at the wrap that was pale green and dotted with bright yellow flowers, each with six petals and a white center. "Ah, good choice, human!"

            The tall skeleton tugged off his gloves and pulled a bottle of something sparkly out of the bag. "I neglected to clean your wounds earlier human, so I will do it now! It may sting a little, but it will keep your cuts from being infected." Hunching over you slightly, he began unwrapping your arm, neatly winding the used bandage and setting it aside. You looked away as he began to tug off the bloody gauze squares, wincing a bit as your skin was teased and newly-formed scabs tore.

            Sans watched you with bright eyes, lights flicking to your arm before going back to your face. "So kid," he kept his voice even, drawl as lazy as his gaze, "What's the story behind those cuts?"

            Papyrus had pulled a cotton ball from the plastic bag and poured the sparkly solution on it, then began wiping down the deep cuts. It stung a bit, but you forced yourself to stay still. When you didn’t answer, he made a humming noise. "Yes human, I am curious as well." He paused, and his right hand went to touch your uninjured arm, phalanges running over the scars left from before your fall. "Why do you do this?"

            "I don't do it a lot," you muttered, shifting your gaze to Sans hoodie pockets. Wow, they were fascinating. So interesting you didn't feel the need to look anywhere else. The itch wiggled beneath your new cuts, begging to be scratched, but the solution Papyrus was rubbing on was doing a good job of dampening it. When neither brother spoke up you took a moment to gather your scattered thoughts and plowed head.

            "I mean, I really don't," you insisted, even though neither had disagreed with you, "Just when things get too…too loud."

            "Too loud?" Papyrus prompted softly, lying new squares of gauze over the cuts.

            "Yeah, y'know, too loud up…here." You reached up and tapped the side of your head with your free had. Papyrus began wrapping your arm in the flower-printed bandage, taking care to keep it even so as much of the flowers could be seen as possible.

            "What makes it loud inside your head, human?" He asked calmly, making sure the bandage was firmly wrapped and sticking to itself.

            You were so very tempted to say 'the sassy ghost girl that's currently possessing me,' but both you and Chara had agreed long ago that it was best nobody knew about her. "Just…a lot of thoughts."

            "Bad thoughts?" Sans guessed, his fingers wiggling in his pockets, which you were still staring at. You gave a short nod, still not looking him in the face. "What kind?"

            Talk about a loaded question. "Like…like sometimes, I just feel stupid." There, that wasn't too revealing. "And then my mind tells me that over and over again, and it won't stop."

            "But human, you are far from stupid!" Papyrus chided gently, gathering all the medical supplies into the bag with his long arms. "You are quite far from it – you passed all my puzzles with ease! Why, I dare to say that a junior jumble would present you with no problem!" He set the bag on the floor, then took your hands in his own, letting them rest on his knees, rubbing the back of them with his thumb phalanges.

            "Paps is right," Sans agreed. "What else does your mind tell you?"

            What else? Everything else. But what could you mention that wouldn't worry the brothers too much? They already knew far more than you ever wanted _anybody_ to know, and you weren't about the hand them your baggage.

            "Sometimes," you began slowly, "it tells me I'm a bad person and should be punished." There, that seemed safe enough, _and_ explained the marks on your arms.

            "But you are not a bad person!" Papyrus crowed, sounding wounded at the very thought of you be anything other than wonderful. "You are a very kind, amazing human who is my friend!" He let go of your hands to wrap you in his long arms, hugging you to his chest.

            You were caught off guard by the surety in his voice – he really thought you were a good person, didn't he? Chara chimed in that he was right, but you ignored her. You weren't a good person, you'd never been a good person. Even if you hadn't been in control during the last 25 runs, you hadn't done anything to stop Chara either. Not to mention everything that had happened above, culminating in you committing the ultimate taboo.

            "Heh," you reached up and hugged his arms to your chest, lowering your head and resting your chin on his ulna. "I wish you could tell my mom that," you muttered, surely too low for them to hear.

            "What do you mean, human? Does your mother not think you are an amazing person?" Papyrus kept his arms comfortably tight around you, even as you stiffened and flinched at the question. How had they heard that?

            "She, uh," you looked to the side, gazing at the three plates lined up neatly on the coffee table as you tried to think of a plausible lie. "Nothing – I was just, uh, kidding. My mom loves me."

            "Kid." Sans scooted forward so he was sitting on the middle cushion, his folded knees inches from your own. His phalanges ran along your cheek and he tilted your head towards him. You resisted all of a moment before giving in and meeting his eyes. His brows quirked in amusement, though his smile seemed more tense than usual. "You're a lousy liar."

            "Sans!"

            The lazy skeleton leaned back, dropping your face so he could support himself with his arms. He kept your gaze, his eye lights small but sharp as he examined your face. "So, you and your mom have a beef, huh? How 'bout you and your dad? How's your relationship with him?"

            You opened your mouth to explain that you had a loving, Kodak-commercial relationship with your father, but the words died on your lips. Sans had lowered his lids to give you a flat look, practically _daring_ you to lie.

            Was it really worth it to lie? You were just going to be shish-kabobbed or blown up or thrown off a cliff down the road and forced to reset, and neither skeleton would remember this conversation. Why not tell the truth?

            "What relationship?" You sighed, slumping against Papyrus. The tall skeleton shifted so you were more comfortably, though he kept his arms wrapped around you.

            "Human, you said you wanted to return to your family above ground! Was – was that a _lie_?" Papyrus sounded hurt at the idea that you'd lied to him. You slumped a bit, but his firm grip never wavered.

            "I just didn't want to fight you again," you admitted. "I knew I couldn't beat you, and I didn't want to get knocked out again…"

            Papyrus was silent for a minute, before sniffling. "I understand, hu – Frisk. I am sorry I hurt you." He rested his head on top of yours, sniffling again (which made no sense. Did they have some kind of magical sinuses?).

            You patted his arm, eyes lifted though all you could see were your bangs. "It's okay, Papyrus. I know you didn't mean to hurt me."

            "Nyeh! I will never raise a bone against you again." He promised, making your lips curl into a small smile.

            "Hate to be a _downer_ ," Sans sunk back lower on his hands, making Papyrus mumble angrily at the pun, "but I'm curious, kid. What's your family like?"

            You wanted to lie and say it wasn't _that_ bad, but you'd already decided to tell them everything, why hide?

            "I live with my mom, dad, and little brother in this huge mansion a few miles from Mt. Ebott," you began.

            "A mansion?" Papyrus sounded stunned. "Human, are you royalty?"

            "Heh, no, but my parents are rich," you admitted. "My mom's parents were really wealthy, so when grandpa died all his money got split between her and my Uncle Fred. It was enough that my mom has never had to work a day in her life.

            "My dad works though – all the time. He's a constitutional lawyer. He's gone a lot because he works in Washington, DC – that's the human capital. He works with lots of important law-makers and politicians. It pays really well."

            "Wowie! That sounds very important," Papyrus sounded suitably impressed. "What is your brother like?"

            You snorted. "He's a brat," you muttered sourly. "He's ten and the apple of mom 'n' dads eye," you slumped against Papyrus, letting him support all your weight, and glared at the middle of Sans jacket. "He goes to this huge, fancy private school, and is a star on the lacrosse team there, and gets straight A's without ever having to study. His teachers and coaches love him – heck, even _mom and dad_ love him. He's their perfect child."

            "Are you saying that your parents do not love you?" Papyrus asked softly, and it was like a dam had broken. Pressure began to gather in the space behind your eyes, but you fought the tears back.

            "Of _course_ they don't!" You exploded, straining to jump from Papyrus lap, but his grip kept you seated. "Who the _hell_ would love a worthless screw-up like me? I'm not smart, I'm not pretty, hell I'm not even a _girl_ or a _daughter_ , I'm some stupid agender _freak_ who can't even tell if they're a boy or a girl!"

            "Kid, wha-"

            With a burst of energy you jumped from Papyrus lap, nearly knowing over Sans, who jerked back in alarm at your sudden movement. "I'm just – I'm _nothing_ to them! I'm nothing, _period!_ They don't care about me – they never have. I'm nothing! Not even a speck in their eyes. I'm just – I'm just…"

            The pressure behind your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks and you steadfastly ignored it, even as the tears began to drop to the carpet. Your shoulders drooped, defeated, and the itch stirred anew beneath your skin, sensing victory close at hand. Without realize it, you began running your nails over your newly-bandaged arm, tearing at the green and yellow print.

            "I'm worthless. It would be better if I was dead."

            Oppressive silence met your statement, cementing the thought in your head. Obviously, the bone brothers felt the same – god, why wouldn't they? You were pathetic, accepting their help then burdening them with your baggage. It'd be best for everybody if you just left.

            You hadn't even taken a step before being immobilized by blue magic, although it wasn't the usual kind. Instead of a heavy feeling invading your SOUL, heavy blue-clad arms wrapped around your shoulders and dragged you against a broad chest that smelled faintly of ketchup and musty books. Sans tangled his fingers in the back of your shirt and pressed you to him as though afraid you would vanish if he let go.

            "Stars," he breathed, moving one hand to the back of your head and tucking it beneath his chin. His hold pinned your arms to your side, keeping you from scratching at your bandage anymore. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry, kid."

            Why was he sorry? You shut your eyes and rested your head against his chest, feeling tired and defeated, heavy hearted and weak. Earlier, when he came into your room, hadn't he said something about the resets? That meant he knew about the resets – good _and_ bad. Worry blossomed in your chest but you forced it down – one problem at a time.

            "Paps?"

            You twisted your head so only the side of your face was resting against Sans ancient hoody. Papyrus had stood from the couch and was mechanically gathering the plates from the coffee table, expressive eyes alarmingly blank. He walked stiffly past Sans and into the kitchen. There was a clank as the dishes were deposited in the too-tall sink, followed by a few small thumps as the cold pipes began pumping in warm water to wash them.

            Sans stared after his brother with a concerned look, though he did nothing to loosen his grip on you and follow. In fact, he tightened his hold and began to tense, as though waiting for something to happen.

            Said something happened not moments later, as a shock of magic rushed through the air, followed by a burst of orange magic from the kitchen doorway. Several large bones punched through the walls, leaving jagged holes behind them. Through one of the holes you could see Papyrus looking absolutely murderous, right eye bright with orange light, scarf lashing behind him as his magic formed and melted around him. Bones crackled into sight, then were either tossed into the walls, fridge, sink, cabinets, or immediately burst under the sheer magical pressure Papyrus was exerting.

            Several large bones (femurs?) shot through the the back wall, shattering hunks of drywall and leaving several gaping holes, allowing flurries of snow to swirl into the mix of magic in the air. It was actually rather pretty, you thought – the flakes caught the light and reflected it, creating a glitter-like effect – no, wait. One of Papyrus' bottles of MTT Brand Edible Sprinkles has burst in the chaos. Several boxes of spaghetti quickly followed, along with a bag of flour (or was it sugar?), which joined the tornado of magic for a few moments before settling into a royal mess on the floor.

            It was over in a flash – literally. After no more than five minutes, the magic faded, and with a final flash of orange from his eye the odd wind vanished. The rest of the sparkles, spaghetti, and sugar fell to the ground with a 'fwump' among the spent bone attacks that hadn't dissipated yet.

            Sans loosened his grip on you as Papyrus looked at the destruction. The royal-guard-in-training straightened up, adjusted his scarf, and strode out of the kitchen with near-regal dignity.

            "BROTHER!" He boomed, inside voice gone, "HUMAN! I AM GOING TO RETRIEVE LUMBER TO TURN THE SHED INTO A HABITABLE ROOM!" He grabbed his gloves from the coffee table and slid them on. "I WILL RETURN SHORTLY!" Without waiting for either of you to answer, he strode out of the house, nearly slamming the door behind him.

            Sans dropped his arms and glanced at the kitchen, wincing at the mess. "That's gonna take a lot of elbow grease. Too bad we're all out, heh…" When you didn't answer he glanced down, took one look and your shell-shocked face, and burst into laughter. "Yeah," he gasped after a second, "isn't my brother the coolest?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished! *throws up hands* So, student teaching is a lot harder than I thought it would be, although it's completely worth it. The next chapter may be a while in coming, but I'm doing my best, I promise!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, and kind words! I appreciate each and every one. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations! Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Cheers, all you lovely, lovely peeps!
> 
> (C 151/K 472/B 125/H 4535)


	9. Chapter 9

            Sans had nearly gotten himself under control when your stomach lurched and gave an annoyed grumble, reminding you that one bite of soggy-but-burnt spaghetti hadn't been enough for dinner. The chuckling skeleton gave your gut an odd look as he straightened up, wiping a stray tear from the corner of his socket.

            "What're you growling about, kid?" He asked, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets and returning to his normal laid-back stature.

            You flushed bright pink and looked away, wrapping an arm around your stomach as it made another unhappy gurgle. "Sorry," you muttered, "as… _great_ as Papyrus' spaghetti was, I'm still hungry."

            "Don't worry 'bout it, kid," Sans shrugged off your less-than-sincere compliment, "My bro's an awful cook. No need to _sugar-_ coat it." He chuckled softly. "I appreciate you humoring him, though. Pretty brave of ya to take a big bite like that." He glanced at the MTT-brand Mettaton-shaped clock hanging above the door to the kitchen and heaved a sigh – it was nearly eight o'clock. "Whelp, the shop is closed by now, but I know a place that's still open. It's the _hottest_ spot in town. You want to go?"

            _I don't trust him,_ Chara piped up, simmering in the back of your mind. _He remembers – he knows. He could be taking you somewhere just to whack you!_

            You paused before answering, before mentally replying _'Whack me?'_ with an incredulous tone. Your skull did the weird tingly thing it did whenever you mentally spoke with her - it made your scalp itch, but you kept your hands hanging by your side. _'What is he, a 1920s mobster?'_

            _Maybe,_ Chara muttered darkly, _but he remembers now, okay? And he KNOWS something's up! He threatened you at the bridge, remember? And in Waterfall! He knows about the resets, and the BAD runs!_

            "Kid?" You'd been quiet for too long, leaving Sans to look at you curiously, a smidge of worry in his eyes. "Hey, don't push yourself. I can just grab some Grillby's and bring it back for us."

            _'Stay here in private or go out in public?'_ You asked Chara, weighing the pros and cons of both. Private meant no audience or strangers, but most likely harder questions. Public meant being surrounded by the monsters at Grillby's, but less opportunity for Sans to grill you.

            _Heh. Grill you._ Chara snorted at your unintentional pun, nearly making you crack a smile as well.

            "Do you promise not to _grill_ me?" You said aloud to Sans, and were rewarded by a robust laugh.

            "Hah! Good one, kid." Sans threw an arm around your shoulder, giving your shoulder a friendly squeeze. "So, you up for burgs and fries?"

            _Do it,_ Chara caved, _it's safer than being alone with him._

            You flashed Sans a slightly nervous smile and nodded. "Yeah, that sounds great." Before he could grin in victory, you grabbed the arm that wasn't around your shoulder, "Could we, um, _not_ take a short cut, please?" You'd been too stunned before to properly register it, but the short cut from Waterfall to their house had made you feel sick and cold for several seconds. You didn't want to experience it again.

            "Sure thing, kid," Sans dropped his arm and looked you up and down. "Hang here a second." He vanished with a flash – god, just standing next to him when he teleported made you shudder, cold magic crackling against your skin. In no time he was back, making you shiver again, holding a well-worn orange hoodie. "Don't want you getting cold. Dunno how snow effects flesh – the chill goes right _through_ me." He winked at the end of the cheesy pun, and you gave him a strained smile in return, taking the sweater from his hands.

            You tugged it over your head and stuck your arms to the sleeves, only to find they were far too long. You had to bunch up the fabric over your hands, and the bottom brushed your knees. Sans snorted at the most likely ridiculous sight of you in what had to be one of Papyrus' spare sweaters.

            "Looking good, kiddo," he winked your way before wandering to the door, "Now c'mon, those burgs are calling my name."

* * *

 

            The journey to Grillby's bar only took a few minutes, and you were more than happy to be out of the cold. Even in the oversized sweater with the hoodie pulled over your ears it was freezing out, and you couldn't wait to sink your teeth into a nice, hot burger. Sans held the door open and ushered you in, tugging off your hood as you passed. As soon as the door opened a warm wave of greetings washed over the two of you, most calls to Sans as he kicked the snow of his slippers and shut the door firmly against the chill outside.

            "'ey, Sans! Where you been?" A horse wearing sunglasses by the bar brayed, tilting down his shades to peer at the skeleton.

            "There you are, Sansy-boy!" A rather drunk-looking rabbit lifted her head from the table she was sat at and gave him a lopsided grin. "Haven't seen you all day!"

            "You aren't – urph, 'scuse me – aren't usually gone more than five minutes!" A mass of plant matter and teeth gave Sans a wide, sharp grin. "Eh? Who's the little morsel behind – urp – you?"

            Sans quirked a brow and glanced behind him. You were standing in the doorway still, staring at the crowded table of dogs playing poker near the bar. You could remember, all too vividly, the feel of the toy knife catching Doggo in the gut, the crunch of Dogaressa's muzzle beneath your glove, the sound of Lesser Dogs confused whimpers as you struck, having thought he'd be getting pats, not punches. Your stomach twisted, threatening to expel the one bite of spaghetti you'd eaten. Chara was chanting something in the back of your head, but you couldn't make out the words through the horrified static crackling through your neurons.

            A heavy arm dropped around your shoulder and tugged you against a bony side, which was radiating warmth. "You mean this short stack?" He asked the toothy-monster with good humor in his voice. If he could feel you shaking beneath his hand, he didn't mention it. "Their name is Frisk," he introduced you, and when you didn't even wave he steamrolled ahead, "They're, uh, not used to being around a lotta people."

            Several of the bar patrons waved and said hello, shooting you calm and kind smiles before turning back to their drinks and company, taking Sans not-so-subtle hint to heart. The drunk bunny gave you a long look, then shrugged and went back to flirting with the sunglasses-wearing horse. The dogs gave you short waves and barked greetings, then re-focused on their game.

            Sans led you to the bar, to the stool beside a seat with a large bottle of ketchup in front of it. Grillby was talking to one of the birds at the far end of the bar, but as you sat (surprisingly without setting off a whoopee cushion) he stiffened, flames crackling about his head as he focused on the two of you.

            "Order anything you want, kiddo," Sans slumped a bit on the bar and dragged the bottle of ketchup to him, flipping the top with his thumb and taking a happy whiff of the acidic 'drink.' You set your sleeve-covered arms on the bar and tapped the polished oak top a bit as you eyed the blackboard menu hanging on the wall. Burgers, fries, sandwiches, chips, pickles, hot chocolate, milkshakes – there was much more than burgs and fries, which was the only thing you'd ever eaten here. Sans always ordered without so much as a glance at the menu, and you didn't mind – who didn't love burgers and fries? But maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have something else this run. Everything else was different so far, why not your first Grillby's meal?

            _"Sans."_

            The bartenders voice sounded deeper, more gravely, than the last time you'd visited the bar. The flame leaned forward, closer to Sans, who had straightened up a bit and was giving the bartender an odd look.

            "Sup, Grillbs?" He greeted casually, taking a swig of his ketchup. Grillby crossed his arms on the bar and leaned in so he could speak quietly to the skeleton without the other patrons overhearing.

            _"Why do I smell blood?"_ His voice was a soft, crackling whisper that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and ice shoot down your spine. His shoulders were tense and pulled back, and his flames danced erratically along his skull.

            Sans paused mid-sip, then gave an overly-casual laugh and shrugged. "Sorry, G, that's me," he explained, holding up his hand. There was a smear of red along the side of his palm. "See? Cut myself tryin' ta help Paps in the kitchen earlier, that’s all."

            _"Sans,"_ Grillby had gone from suspicious and cautious to exasperated in the space of one heavy sigh, _"Monsters don't bleed."_ Behind his glasses his gaze shifted to you, and you shrunk into your hoodie, reaching up to pull the too-large hood over your head.

            Sans sighed and licked the ketchup off his hand. "Well," he kept his voice as low as Grillby's, "if there _were_ something non-monster around, I'm sure they wouldn't be a danger to anybody here."

            _"And outside of here?"_

            "Frisk isn't gonna hurt anybody, Grillby," Sans said firmly, "Papyrus and I are both looking after them. The only thing they want to kill is an order of burg and fries." 

            Grillby eyed the skeleton for a minute longer, then shifted his gaze to you. You brought your shoulders up around your ears, sinking into the neck of the hoodie. A warm hand on your cheek stopped you, and surprised at the touch you glanced up. The bartender stared into your eyes for a long moment, then nodded and dropped his hand. "Welcome to Grillby's," he said in a calmer, louder voice that crackled with warmth, "What would you like to order?"

            Much to Sans surprise, you ordered a turkey sandwich with chips and a hot chocolate. He got his usual burger and fries, and the two of you sat quietly soaking in the atmosphere of the bar as Grillby went to the back room to prepare the meals. After he'd drained a good portion of his condiment, Sans set it on the bar and turned to face you.

            "So kid, tell me I didn't just lie to my best friend." He propped his chin up with one hand, elbow on the bar top, eyes boring into you. "You got any plans to hurt anybody this time around?"

            _He's not even pretending not to know,_ Chara muttered, sounding confused. _Is he just…giving up on secrets?_

            _'Maybe?'_ You kept your eyes on the bar top, tugging the sleeves over your fingers and rubbing at the soft texture lining the fabric. There was so much different with this run – it was confusing. And frightening.

            "I don't want to hurt anyone," you answered, feeling comfortable in the vagueness of the statement.

            "Mm-hmm." Sans reached out and tugged on the fabric over your shoulder, pulling at it until you looked at him. He gave you a hollow-eyed stare, eye-lights gone, a familiar mask of seriousness on his face that made you think of orange and gold tiles and the sight of a canine skull bigger than yourself. "Promise?"

            "Promise," you nodded, looking away from him before your stomach decided it didn't like your flashbacks.

            Sans relaxed in his seat and went back to sipping his ketchup. Not even a minute later Grillby returned, balancing two plates on one hand and a large mug in the other. He set a piping hot burger with a side of fries in front of Sans, who perked up at the sight of food. In front of you, he set a turkey and cheese sandwich on toasted bread, along with a handful of crispy potato chips, and a mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream.

            "Heh, looks _hot_ , Grillbs. Thanks." Sans drowned his burger and fries in ketchup before digging in. You gave the flame a smile, still hiding beneath your hood, before picking up the crispy sandwich and taking a bite. The layered turkey (made of something that wasn't actually turkey, but tasted just like it anyway) was so tender that it practically melted in your mouth. The crunchy, warm bread and near-liquid cheese warmed your very core. You swallowed, and the monster-food dissolved halfway down your throat, converted immediately to energy and magic. Your SOUL gave a pleasant thump in your chest, and you remembered that you hadn't properly eaten since yesterday.

            "You gonna eat that sandwich or marry it?" Sans teased when he noticed you staring at the delicious food in your hands. You flushed but took another bite, making a small, happy noise as the heavenly taste flooded your mouth. The skeleton laughed as he finished off his burger and began munching on the fries. After you'd finished the heavenly sandwich you grabbed the mug of hot chocolate, and felt Chara jump with excitement in the back of your mind. The ghost loved chocolate more than anything in the world (except Asriel), and just the smell and warmth of the mug had her anxiously waiting for the taste.

            You took a sip and melted once more. It was thick and creamy, the whip cream smudging across your nose and your lips. The drink, despite being hot enough to burn your tongue, quickly disappeared. Chara made a happy humming noise at the taste. Sans made a similar noise as he cracked open a second chilled bottle of ketchup beside you, making you giggle a bit, until he stole a handful of your chips and began dipping them in the leftover ketchup on his plate.

            The last of the chips had been munched through by the two of you when the door to Grillby's was thrown open, loudly banging against the wall and letting in a blast of chilly air.

            "SANS! There you are! And you have the h-FRISK with you!" Papyrus stomped the snow off his boots before striding across the room, clearing the space in only a few steps. His loud voice had quieted the other bar patrons, who were watching him with various levels of amusement. "I returned from procuring the wood for Frisk's bedroom and found neither of you home!" He scowled at Sans. "You did not leave a note saying where you would be! And you," he turned his gaze on you, which shifted from a scowl to a worried tilt of his brows and a downturn at the edge of his mandible, "You are still healing. You should be at home resting!"

            "Healing?" The drunk bunny, who was apparently not nearly as drunk as she appeared, had wandered over to the bar and stood near Sans, leaning on the polished surface. Her swirly pupils had cleared, leaving bright pink eyes watching you curiously. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" The lisp she'd greeted Sans with was gone as well.

            Without giving you time to answer (obviously remembering your nerves when coming into the bar), Sans threw in, "The kid fell on their arm and banged it up pretty bad."

            "Oh dear," the rabbit simpered, "You should ask Grillby to take a look! He's a whiz at healing magic," she confided, ignoring the blue blush that dusted the bartenders face.

            You shrunk back a bit as she leaned in and gripped your bandaged arm through the thick hoodie. "Um," you refuted eloquently.

            Papyrus saved you from answering by scooping you up and holding you princess-style to his chest. "We don't want to bother Grillby," he declared, keeping his boisterous voice in check now that your ear was pressed against his chest. "And we are very busy! Come, Frisk! We must design your room!"

            "Their room?" The bunny asked curiously, ears standing upright. Sans finished his ketchup and slid off his barstool, moving to stand beside his brother.

            "Yep," he reached up and patted your foot, which was dangling over the side of Papyrus' arm. "The kiddo's living with us," he sent you a wink, while Papyrus practically vibrated in excitement.

            "We are turning the Capture Zo – I mean, the shed into a bedroom for them tomorrow!" He beamed and gave you a slight squeeze. "Come, Frisk! We must pick out paint colors and bedsheet patterns! Farewell, Grillby! Farewell, Bonnie!" He charged out of the bar to a chorus of farewells. You peeked back over his pauldrons to see Sans strolling after, while the bunny, Bonnie, leaned over the bar and began speaking to Grillby with a bright, excited smile on her face.

 

* * *

 

           Hours later found you falling asleep on Papyrus' lap, a handful of paint swatches in various shades of purple and blue spread across the bedspread in front of you. There were also a few fabric swatches – apparently, there was a family of sheep-like monsters in Waterfall that used the flax grass to weave fabric and used special 'sewing magic' to press patterns into the soft cloth using flower dyes.

            You and Papyrus had spent a good chunk of the evening sitting on his bed, debating colors and patterns and talking about how you wanted your room to look. You insisted – _repeatedly_ – that you were happy sleeping on the couch; he didn't need to give up his shed for you. Such a large act of generosity made you feel…weird. Your stomach squirmed and the itch bit at your brain, telling you that you didn't deserve such a gift, you didn't deserve such a caring friend.

            "I'll pay you back for this," you'd eventually insisted, picking up the paint swatches, only to have them snatched out of your hand by a red glove.

            "Human," Papyrus, who was sitting against the headboard with you between his leg so you could both be comfortable and see the swatches, turned you around to face him. "You do not have to repay us for anything," he made sure you were looking at him, his sockets boring into your tired eyes. "You are my friend – my _best_ friend! – and I will not let you go without a safe place to live. My brother and I never use the shed, and it will be but the work of a moment to attach it to the kitchen." His right eye lit up with an echo of orange magic, and he grinned widely. "You forget, human, we have magic to help! It will make building your room easy!" He released your shoulders and turned you back around, picking up a few of the swatches. "Now, let me explain why orange would be a far superior wall color than green!"

            You leaned against him and let him wax poetic about his favorite color. Every half hour or so Sans poked his head through the open door, checking the pair of you. As you drifted into that odd meditative state that wasn't sleep but wasn't waking, a question occurred to you.

            _'Chara?'_ She made a hum in the back of your mind, nearly asleep herself. _'Is this what it's like to have a family?'_

            By the time the surprised ghost formulated an answer, you were asleep against Papyrus' chest, wrapped comfortably in his arms as he put aside the paint chips and resigned himself to painting you room in varying shades of green and yellow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-wrote this chapter like five times before I was happy with it. :P Now that I'm rewriting this, I'm seeing so many different ways I could take it. There are things that are going to change, things I'm going to tweak, characters I'm going to add...all these ideas I have now that I have a proper plot outlined in my mind. 
> 
> Thanks for all your well-wishes, I appreciate them! The bank hasn't told me if I can get any of the money back yet, but having so many people sending me good vibes has helped immensely! I hope y'all like this chapter, let me know in the comments if you do! 
> 
> Cheers all you lovely, lovely peeps!
> 
> (C 192/K 531/B 131/H 5564)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pickles. Yum.
> 
> I am so sorry this took so long to get out!

Bonnie the Bunny was a miracle worker.

            You stared at the room – _your room!_ – barely able to breathe through the surge of surprise and shock that had hit you as soon as Papyrus had opened the door. The sneaky skeleton had taken you on his rounds this morning, giving Sans and apparently half of Snowdin time to fix up the shed. The igloo tunnel had been moved a few feet to the right, and the shed shifted into its place, connecting to the house with a door to the kitchen. The walls had been washed and painted with yellow and green stripes, while the floor was covered with a plush purple and blue rug. A full-sized bed was pushed into the far corner beneath the window, and someone had found a short dresser to put against the wall by the door to the kitchen. All the furniture was a bit dinged up, but someone had donated a brightly colored quilt for your bed, and Monster Kid, along with several other kids in the village, had drawn pictures and made welcome cards, which were taped to the wall above the dresser. There were even a few well-loved but still fluffy stuffed animals on the bed.

            “W-what?” After several moments of gaping you got your jaw to work, only to stutter out the silly question. Sans and Bonnie were standing to the side of the room, by the door to the kitchen, and the bunny looked beyond proud at your reaction.

            “Welcome home!” She chirped, spreading her paws wide, gesturing to the whole room. “I hope you like it!”

            You were going to catch flies, the way your jaw was hanging open. “H-how?”

            Sans chuckled and gently nudged the bunny, who clasped her hands in front of her and beamed, bouncing on her long feet. “It was all Bonnie here,” he explained. “She went around last night gettin’ donations from monsters, and even got some of ‘em to volunteer to come by this morning to fix up the shed.”

            “It’s not a shed anymore,” Bonnie corrected, “it’s your room! Do you like it?”

            You took in the painted walls (which Chara hadn’t commented on, in fact she felt vaguely uncomfortable in the back of your mind at the sight of them, for some reason) and the scavenged furniture, all put together with care and love. “I – I love it,” you admitted, still a bit shocked, “but – but why did you do this for me?”

            Bonnie looked a bit confused, while Sans’ smile drooped at the edge, and in the doorway Papyrus wrung his hands together. The bunny quickly brightened however, reaching out to pat your shoulder. “Because you needed somewhere to stay, and I wasn’t about to let these boys do all the work alone! Sans told us all about you when he came back last night,” she nodded to the skeleton, who was leaning against the dresser and looked half asleep, though you could see his eye lights were still sharp, “and when we heard what happened, we all wanted to help!”

            “Heard what _happened?”_ You glanced at Sans, wondering if he’d mentioned your being human to them. _He wouldn’t dare,_ Chara hissed, bristling at the mere thought of betrayal.

            Bonnie adopted a sympathetic look and smoothed a paw over your messy hair, petting you gently. “Yes, dear, about the cave-in. I’m sorry you lost your parents and your brother, but I’m glad you got out of the cave safely!” Her eyes drifted to your bandaged arm, which was mostly hidden away beneath Papyrus’ orange hoodie.

            _That’s not a bad story, actually_ , Chara chimed in as you stared at the bunny, who was still petting your hair. Your breath caught in your chest as you glanced around the room again, gaze lingering on the surprised-looking Papyrus and the too-calm Sans. Then beyond them, to the pieced-together room that was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

            Bonnie tutted and ran one of her fluffy paws beneath your eye. “Oh dear, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” her ears drooped along the back of her skull. Confused you reached up and touched the bottom of your other eye, only to find tears clinging to your lashes. Why were you crying? When had you even started? Giving you a sympathetic smile, Bonnie pulled her hands away and folded them in front of her skirt. “I’ll leave you to settle in. If you need anything at all, Sans knows where I live.” She hesitated a moment, before sweeping you up in a tight hug. “Welcome to Snowdin, Frisk.”

            You returned the hug automatically, used to Toriel’s tight squeeze and Papyrus’ bony grapples. Bonnie’s fur was soft beneath your fingers, and she smelled like snow and mint. By the time she released you, her ears had perked back up.

            “Now you boys take good care of them,” the rabbit told Sans and Papyrus sternly, wagging a finger at them. “If they ever get on your nerves, you’re welcome to my guest room!”

            Sans chuckled, still leaning against the dresser. “Are you talkin’ to us or them?” He motioned to you with a tilt of his head. Bonnie huffed but still gave both skeletons a hug goodbye before leaving, seeming to suck a good bit of energy from the room with her. As soon as the final goodbye had been called, Papyrus shut the outside door and turned to examine the room, looking quite pleased with it.

            “Yer still leaking, kiddo.” Sans, who had silently moved to your side, poked your cheek. “We didn’t do that bad of a job, did we?”

            “It’s perfect,” you wiped at your eyes and took a deep, shuddery breath to stop the tears. “I’ve never had a room like this before.”

            “Surely your _parents_ gave you a room?” Papyrus asked, moving to rest a hand on your shoulder. There was a very clear undertone of venom when he mentioned your parents.

            “Of course, but – but it wasn’t like this.” You moved to run a hand over the hand-made quilt on the bed, fingers lingering over the stitches. “It was a room but it wasn’t _my_ room. My – my mom picked everything and made it look like a room from Home & Gardens magazine.” The brothers looked confused but didn’t ask what a ‘home & gardens magazine’ was. “Matching curtains and bedspread, perfectly placed decoration, nothing personal and no stuffed animals…” You sighed and Chara made a sympathetic noise in your mind. “I wasn’t even allowed to put my drawings up on the walls, or have friends over to play in it. It was a place, not a home, just like the rest of the house.” Explanation done, you sighed again and flopped face-first onto the bed, among the stuffed animals and pillows.

            “Er, kid, you might not wanna-“

            “Sans, isn’t that…?”

            Something beneath you _moved_. You shrieked and jumped off the bed, nearly falling on your face when you landed on tangled feet. Papyrus caught you and, out of habit from carrying Sans for years, swept you into a toddler hold. On the bed the quilt shook, then a small lump traveled down the blanket to the edge of the bed. Sans moved to flip back the fabric, revealing something you’d never seen before.

            A Gaster Blaster the size of your hand (fingers to wrist) was resting on the bed, bright blue eye lights flickering about the room curiously. He was just like the big ones Sans had summoned when fighting, except his edges were more rounded, and his teeth were more nubs than fangs. Even the horns sweeping up the back of his head were little more than bumps. He yipped at Sans, bifurcated jaw flapping open wide, and began floating off the bed. Sans chuckled and pet the little skull, his own eye glowing a bit in response. In the back of your mind Chara shuddered and withdrew, able to remember all-too-well the feel of the Gaster Blaster’s beams melting skin from bones as they repeatedly killed her. This left you alone to cling to Papyrus, unable to decide if it was adorable or terrifying.

            “Heh, sorry kid, forgot he was taking a nap.” Sans scratched the little thing on the jaw, and it began purring like a cat, eyes shut lazily. “This is Pickles.”

            Your fear of the creature immediately diminished. “…Pickles?”

            “Pickles,” Papyrus confirmed with a sigh, shifting his grip so you could turn and look at the floating skull more easily. “My brother is great at many things, but naming his pets is not one of them.”

            “Aw, c’mon Paps, it’s not that big of a _dill_.” Sans snickered at his pun as Papyrus fake-groaned in fake-distress. When you wiggled a bit he set you down, though you simply stood in front of him, not getting close to Sans and his mini-blaster.

            “Why Pickles?” You asked, and the little thing twitched at hearing his name in a new voice. His eyes popped open, blue light blazing, and he zoomed towards you with an excited yip. You froze, able to see in mind’s eye the much larger, scarier, deadlier version as it charged up and opened its mouth to showcase a bullet of pure magical energy. The flashback was easily cut short as the tiny Blaster bounced into your nose, muzzle-first, and began yipping like an excited Pekinese.

            “Cause the first time I summoned him I was eating a burger and Grillby’s, and he stole my pickles.” Sans shrugged, watching as the excitable pup bounced in the air in front of you. “He likes to be scratched by his horns,” he suggested when you didn’t move.

            Slowly – cautiously – you lifted a hand and ran a finger over his head. Pickles immediately quieted and floated in place, eyes shutting in bliss as you continued to pet him. When he didn’t bite or summon any bullets, you curled several fingers behind his head and scratched at his horns. He hummed and nuzzled into your palm, fitting perfectly in the curve of your hand. The smooth bone was surprisingly warm and even slightly pliable beneath your touch.

            “The baby blaster likes you, human!” Papyrus exclaimed warmly, reaching past you to pat Pickle’s head.

            “Baby blaster?” You asked as the little skull followed Papyrus’ glove out of your hands, nipping at the red fabric playfully. Papyrus chuckled and tickled him under the chin, then summoned a small bone and threw it across the room. Pickles barked and flew after it, and you were certain that had he a tail, it would be wagging. While Papyrus and Pickles played fetch, Sans sat on the edge of your bed and motioned you over.

            “Gaster Blasters, like him, live in the Void,” he explained, “Things can live in the void, but not things like us. There’s no air or water there, or even a proper world. It’s more like a huge, empty black space. At least what I can see of it is.”

            “You’ve been there?” You asked, sitting beside him after checking for anymore living creatures.

            “Yeah, traveling through the Void is how my shortcuts work, but that’s a quantum physics theory for another day,” Sans waved away the question you hadn’t even begun to ask. “Anyway, Gaster Blasters like Pickles here, and some…others,” his eyes flicked to you, then back to the playing pair, and you were reminded once again that Sans wasn’t pretending this time – he knew everything, “They live and grow in the Void. Thanks to some stuff my old man taught me, I can summon them when I need to. Pickles here is the youngest I’ve ever called, though – I was trying to show Grillby a new bone trick and accidently called in Pickles. Nearly gave the guy a _spark attack_.”

            “So he stole your pickles and you decided to keep him?” You guessed as Pickles whizzed past, bonked into the wall, barked in confusion, then spotted the small bone and carried it triumphantly back to Papyrus.

            “Yep,” Sans confirmed. “He goes back to the Void most of the time though, I just summoned him today to help carry stuff up to the roof while Ice Bear and Ice Wolf put on new _shin_ -gles.”

            Papyrus groaned, Pickles barked, and you grinned as Sans chuckled. It had been a long time since you’d felt this warm and cozy inside – not even the itch was there to bother you. Sure, it would most likely be back some time, but for now you had a home, you had friends, and you had a little Gaster Blaster poking you with his nose, wanting more scratches behind his horns. You happily obliged, missing the relieved look the two skelebros shared above your head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry for the wait, you guys! I had to re-write this chapter four different times, and I had major writers block through most of it. Sorry again! Also, sorry it's short, I'm getting back into the swing of things, though. Next chapter: Undyne! 
> 
> Let me know if you guys want more of Pickles! I'm sure he'd love some pictures of himself! ;D
> 
> Thanks for all the support, my cat Papyrus is fine. It turns out he ate a hunk of my embroidery floss and had some trouble passing it. Vet bill was a bit much but I was able to pay it, so it's all good. He thanks you for the well wishes!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, despite it being quite short. 
> 
> Cheers, all you lovely, lovely readers!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fishy puns abound...

It took three days for Undyne to realize something was wrong and burst into the skeleton brothers house, spears blazing and eye lit with righteous fury. Honestly, you all should have been expecting it. Undyne  _ knew  _ there was a human in the Underground, Undyne was  _ waiting  _ for the human to pass through Waterfall, and Undyne knew that  _ Papyrus  _ had befriended said human. It was simple to connect the dots: no human in Waterfall + friends with Papyrus =  _ DEAD PAPYRUS BECAUSE THE TRAITOROUS HUMAN SLAUGHTERED HIM AND I MUST AVENGE MY DEAREST FRIEND AND HIS LAZY BROTHER!  _

So three days of peace passed, wherein Papyrus made spaghetti, Sans made spaghetti-based puns, and Pickles stole bites of the spaghetti off your plate when he thought you weren’t looking. The baby blaster had glued himself to your side, following you around like the eager puppy he was, even to bed at night. He’d claimed a weasel plush as his own and spent the evenings ‘guarding’ you with his soft snores and occasional sleep-barking. 

Chara wasn’t content with the simple daily routine you fell into. She stewed at the back of your mind, now and again pulled from her musing by Pickles doing something silly, but quick to return to her darker thoughts.

She didn’t trust Sans - at  _ all _ . She saw him as an adversary; someone as sneaky and manipulative as herself, and it worried her. His face was hard to read, his body language a constant slouch with the occasionally lazy lift of the shoulders. His nonchalance and tired grin sent up red flags in Chara’s mind, putting her on edge even when you were relaxing in the nice, new bedroom the very skeleton had helped put together for you. 

_ He told us about the blasters,  _ she reasoned,  _ but that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he give us ANY information on one of his weapons? Especially his most powerful one?  _ She mentally brushed a hand over her arm, where one of said weapons had caught her during the last run.  _ He knows about the RESETS - about MY resets...but he hasn’t tried to kill us or throw us out or anything. He knows we can kill his brother and his friends but he hasn’t DONE anything other than growl at us when we went to Grillby’s! And that time he growled at us by the bridge… _

“It’ll be okay,” you soothed, shifting in your bed so you were on your side, facing the wall, away from prying skeleton ears. You always kept the door open just a crack, large enough for Pickles to slip through in case he needed something. Said Pickles, who was snoozing on his weasel, cracked open one eye and gave you a huffy look before rolling over and going back to sleep. He’d gotten used to your habit of talking to ‘yourself’ at night, when the skeletons couldn’t eavesdrop, and was incredibly adept at sleeping through your musings. A few times you tried ‘thinking’ back at Chara, but it made your skull pulse uncomfortably, and your stomach tie up in knots.

_ How do you know?  _ Chara snapped back, creating an image of her standing with arms crossed.  _ This is different from any run before. We don’t know what’s going to happen next. You can’t say everything is going to be ‘okay’ when you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow! _

“We have Papyrus,” you pointed out, pulling your blankets up around your ears and burying your face in the fluff of the pillow. “He won’t let anything happen to us.” 

_ SANS will happen to us if we’re not carefully,  _ Chara groused.  _ He hates us - I KNOW he does. I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at us. He’s just waiting for the chance to shove a bone down our throat!  _

“He is not!” You immediately countered, but something hard and round and made of worry and guilt and suspicion began to roil in your gut. “Sans doesn’t want to hurt us.”

_ He does,  _ she said darkly.  _ He does, and he will. He will find a way to hurt us without Papyrus knowing. Sans doesn’t forget, and he doesn’t forgive. He doesn’t trust us - he’ll NEVER trust us. Not after what I did to his brother.  _ She noticed your breathing begin to pick up, felt the wave of panic and worry creeping over the edge of your mind.  _ Shit. Don’t - don’t panic. I’ll protect us,  _ she tried to reassure you, mentally petting your head.  _ We’ll be okay. I won’t let anything bad happen. Not - not again.  _

You pulled the blankets even tighter and squeezed yours eyes shut, making believe the tight fabric was a pair of arms, the arms of somebody who loved you and knew you were scared and wanted to make it all go away with a hug. After that, Chara kept her thoughts to herself, allowing you to drift away for the night. She was quiet and reserved the next morning, keeping to the back of your head even as Papyrus pestered you with “GOOD MORNING, HUMAN!” and “HOW DID YOU SLEEP?” and other pleasantries. 

“HU - Ahem, Frisk,” he lowered his voice slightly, allowing his shoulders to relax as he dropped his overly-jubilant personality in favor of a more reserved, brotherly one he’d come to favor when speaking with you, “You do not seem well. Are you feeling alright?” He slipped off one of his gloves as you slumped at the breakfast table and pressed his metacarpals to your forehead.

You shrugged a bit, sitting up straighter and giving him as much of a smile as you could muster. “I’m okay, Papyrus. Just waking up still.”

He frowned, obviously not placated by the claim, but turned towards the stove none-the-less. “I see,” he claimed, pulling an apron out of the top drawer by the sink and putting it on with a flourish. “I know what you need, human!”  
_Breakfast spaghetti,_ Chara guessed, a soft laugh in her words.

“My world-famous PANCAKES!”

This caused both you, and the ghost inside of your head, to pause.

“P-pancakes?” You asked, carefully enunciating the word to make sure you’d heard right.

“Of course!” Papyrus pulled out a large mixing bowl, along with some containers labeled with neat, papyrus-font handwriting. Flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and a few other small bins you couldn’t see. “Breakfast spaghetti may be my  _ signature  _ morning dish, but pancakes are the perfect thing for creating smiles on the faces of my friends!” He began whipping together the ingredients, juggling a set of measuring cups as he did so. Milk joined the messy counter from the fridge, as well as a few eggs. Papyrus was a whirlwind of activity, his back to you as he whipped the ingredients together and began pouring the pale-yellow batter into a preheated pan on the stove.

As the first pancake began to sizzle, Papyrus laid out several plates on the table, along with a few more jars from the fridge and a bowl of blueberries. You half-rose from your seat, offering to help, and Papyrus happily handed you a bowl of strawberries and a fork.

“Sans has taken all the knives,” he explained when you looked confused, “and scissors. And nail clippers. So you will have to use the fork to cut out the leaves and slice the strawberries!” He set a bowl in front of you and rushed back to the stove to flip the pancakes. 

_ So he left us with a fork?  _ Chara snorted, and you could feel dark amusement seeping from her. Just as much damage could be done with a fork as with a knife, it just took more effort. A shudder ran through you, and you set the fork beside the bowl. Chara immediately backpedaled, apologizing and putting a cap on her feelings. 

You began choosing strawberries and picking out the tops using your nails, which weren’t terribly long but were clean, and didn’t carry the same threat as the fork. You quickly lost yourself in the simple action, twisting off the top and digging it out with your nail. Slowly your shoulders lowered, relaxing, until a voice spoke far too close to your ear.

_ “I’ve caught you RED-HANDED.”  _

You  _ screamed  _ and jumped away, unfortunately straight into the table, ramming your stomach against the edge of the rounded wood and winding yourself. The chair clattered to the floor, landing on it’s side and skidding several feet away. Unable to breath you clutched at the table, strawberry-stained fingers leaving red streaks along the wood. It almost looked like blood, leaking from your fingers and staining the light pressboard, a mark of your sins. The bowl of strawberries itself went spinning across the table, clanking against the glasses Papyrus had set out before settling down beside the blueberries, red juice leaking over the edge and dripping down to the table.

_ “Shit!”  _ The voice hissed from behind you, on the other side of the chair. Feet shuffled forward and a hand rested on your back, between your shoulder blades. “You okay, kid?”

It was Sans - of  _ course  _ it was Sans. You stared at your hands, trying to drag a breath into your lungs, which felt like a pair of crumpled soda cans lodged far too deep in your chest. You locked your eyes on your hands, scraping your nails against the wood. The strawberry juice had stained your fingers and dripped onto your palms and over your knuckles, creating lines of bright red along your skin. 

_ Red Handed.  _

It was a  _ pun _ .

Sans hadn’t been threatening you - he’d come down for breakfast and had seen your hands and had taken the chance to be his usual punny self. You glared at your hands as you tried to breath, just to be sure. No dust - just strawberry juice and bits of green leaves. 

“SANS!” Papyrus’ sounded more than a bit upset as he stomped over to the table, setting something down with a heavy clunk on the wood. A delicious smell tickled your nose, and you tried to take in a deeper breath to enjoy the scent. Your lungs un-crumpled a bit, and the pain in your chest began to recede, going from a sharp, crushing vice to a dull ache that spread across your sternum and flared up and down your ribs.

“Sans,” Papyrus repeated in a quieter voice, and you heard the feet from before being dragged across the kitchen tiles, away from you. “The human is  _ tired  _ and does not need your incessant  _ punning  _ ruining their morning.”

You pushed away from the table, only to nearly trip over the fallen chair. Chara took over your feet for the split second it took to regain your balance and artfully turn, so you were resting your back against the table. Papyrus had Sans by the hood and had dragged him towards the kitchen doorway, as far from you as he could get. When he saw you’d turned to face them, Papyrus spun his brother around to face you and firmly planted his hands on the shorter skeletons shoulders.

“Ki -  _ Frisk _ , I’m sorry.” Sans immediately said when your eyes met his eyelights. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Chara hummed in your mind, staring deeply into his eye sockets, looking for a crack or flick to show his true emotions about the disastrous joke-gone-wrong. Instead, the only thing she could see was sincerity. You echoed her surprise - wasn’t he angry at you still? He had been nice, true, but what Chara had said the night before still rung clearly in your mind.

_ Sans doesn’t forget, and he doesn’t forgive… _

Had the moment been continued, it would have been a sweet one. Perhaps you would have broken down, rushed into Sans arms, and apologized a million times over for what had happened in the past twenty-five runs. Perhaps Papyrus would sweep the two of you up in a tight group hug and insist that now you’re a family, you’ll be together forever. Perhaps you could have lived the rest of your life in Snowdin, enjoying growing up among the skeletons, becoming one of them, a part of their wacky antics. 

Perhaps Undyne just had really,  _ really  _ bad timing.

The Captain of the Royal Guard didn’t even knock. The first sign she was there was the door being kicked in, the wood cracking along the middle where it was hit before the straining hinges gave up the ghost, sending the panel of thick mahogany to the floor. The fish stood there in all her glory, bright blue spear in hand, prepared to do battle with the fearsome human who had dared to trick her best friend into friendship, then a long, painful death.

There were a lot of assumptions going on today. 

“HUMAN! I HAVE COME FOR YOUR SOUL! GIVE IT TO ME NOW AND I WILL MAKE YOUR DEATH QUICK AND PAINLESS!” The fish woman still had her helmet on, and as she stomped into the skeleton brothers’ house she cut an imposing figure.

Papyrus lifted his hands from his brother and took a step closer to the kitchen door, blocking you from sight. “UNDYNE! HELLO!” He greeted, meeting her howling with his own boisterous voice. “PLEASE COME IN!”

Sans blipped out of sight, only to appear directly beside you. “Go hide in your room, kiddo. We’ll smooth this over,” he whispered, bending over to right the fallen chair. “Is Pickles still sleeping in there?” You had to pull in a tight breath before nodding, edging away from him, towards the door to your room. “Good, he’ll protect you.” Sans disappeared and you heard him say hello to Undyne from right behind her, startling the poor fish. With her distracted you hurried into your room, shutting the door firmly behind you.

It wasn’t until you’d sat on your bed and been nuzzled by Pickles that you realized the fork was clutched tightly in your hand, silver tines shining in the dim morning light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEHOLD! *kazoo fanfare* The next chapter! I have, no joke, re-written this stupid chapter at least five times. I've been having a depression episode lately, which makes it hard for me to write cheerful or upbeat stuff, which was the original intent of this chapter. But eventually, angst won out, therefore worried Chara appeared!
> 
> Also, Sans, don't ninja-pun people. It's rude and might scare them. You're lucky Frisk couldn't breath, otherwise she might have forked you in the face out of pure reflex!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos on the past chapter, I really appreciate it! Hopefully things will run smoother now that this chapter is out of the way. 
> 
> Cheers, all you lovely lovely readers!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pickles says naughty words.

~~His~~ The human was worried. Pickles nudged your wrist anxiously, eye lights drifting towards the fork clutched in your hand. You were worrying the end, rubbing your thumb over the engraved sunflower along the top of the handle in repeated, soothing circles. He nipped gently at the skin of your uninjured wrist, whining to get your attention. It took a second, harder nip to pull your thoughts away from wherever they were going.

“Errr?” He asked, floating a bit higher so he could nuzzle against your cheek. You blinked, clearing your eyes, then reached up and patted him.

“Hello, Pickles,” you greeted, but your voice still sounded far away and a little bit...echoey? Why did it sound like that? He pulled back a bit and gave your face a closer look. Deep in your eyes, which were brown like chocolate (which he wasn’t allowed to have) there was a flash of deep, thick crimson. It was gone as soon as he looked, as though it’d never existed in the first place. Your thumb continued to make rounds on the end of the fork.

“Muuuurrrrr…” He floated back down and nudged your circling thumb, then took a firm hold of the tines of the fork and gave it a yank. You tightened your grip and gently pulled it back, refusing to give it over. He barked sharply in annoyance and redoubled his efforts.

“Pickles,” you easily pulled the fork from his fangs, his baby-bones strength no match for your twelve-year-old muscles. “Please stop,” you sounded - tired. Defeated. He floated back up to your face and booped your nose.

“Ruurr?”

“Sorry, boy.” You leaned against him a bit, eyes drifting to the left as you spoke. “Sometimes humans just like...shiny things.”

Oh?

Oh.

OH!

Shiny things! That would cheer ~~his~~ the human up! The baby blaster immediately shot up higher into the air and looked around the room, eye lights bright and eager. Let’s see - there was nothing shiny on the desk. There was nothing shiny on the bed. There was nothing shiny on the wall. There was nothing shiny on the - the door!

With an excited yip Pickles dove for the shiny gold doorknob. He had to stretch his jaw a bit to reach around the bulbous surface, but with a bit of determination he managed. He tugged at it, trying to pull the shiny from the wall, but couldn’t quite manage. Maybe he could twist it off? Eyes bright, he turned his whole body to the left. The shiny moved with him, twisting to the side, and something in the door clicked.

“Wait, Pickles, Undyne is-!”

Whatever Undyne was he didn’t hear - the door swung open into the kitchen, revealing his two skeletons and a large fish woman in armor standing near the doorway to the living room, arguing about something. She paused and glanced over at him, brows drawing low over her eyes. Papyrus made a strangled noise in the back of his non-existent throat, and Sans’ eye lit up blue for a split-second in panic before he squashed it.

All of this was ignored by Pickles, who had found his goal. His shiny. There, pinned to the fish woman’s armor, was a shiny much better than that pokey fork! One that didn’t have any sharp edges ~~his~~ the human could hurt themselves on. With a triumphant trill Pickles shot straight for the fishwoman and snapped up the gold medal pinned to her chest. She jerked back when he lunged and summoned a long, electric-blue spear.

“What the hell-!” The fish woman bellowed, then aimed the end of the spear at the floating skull, who was triumphantly soaring back to his the human. You took that moment to appear in the doorway, eyes wide as saucers and showing that same panicked flash of red as before.

Pickles didn’t see it - couldn’t, he was facing you, bouncing happily with the Captain’s badge clutched tight in his teeth. But you saw it - you saw the tensing of Undyne’s jaw, recognized the flash of hurt pride and fury in her one eye, felt a familiar curl of fear in your gut as she drew her arm back to launch the spear at the happy little baby bones who was only trying to cheer _you_ up.

You snatched Pickles out of the air and drew him to your chest, spinning around so your back was bared to Undyne, an unbroken target for her spear. You dropped to your knees as you turned, hoping against hope that the spear would miss, but you knew that was a futile hope - Undyne didn’t miss. Not this close. Holding the wiggling baby bones tight, you shut your eyes and prayed that the next RESET would be an equally peaceful one.

There was an odd, electric ‘chink-thunk!’ sound behind you. The lack of searing pain along your spine prompted you to slowly - carefully - look up after a moment. Pickles was purring happily in your arms, still clutching the badge in his dull fangs and looking far too proud of his thieving abilities. Still moving slowly, trying to keep from drawing too much attention to yourself, you turned to look at the kitchen.

Undyne was slowly lowering her arm, single golden eye wide in surprise. Beside her Papyrus was half-way to grabbing that same arm, in a vain attempt to stop the spear before it was thrown. He was staring at you, just as stunned as his friend. No wait, not at you - he was staring to your right. You carefully turned your head, and even Pickles let out a yip of surprise at what you saw.

Sans was there, a long femur in his hand, looking as though he’d just swung at bat. The spear was stuck in the ceiling, shaft still trembling, just a few feet above your head. The chubby skeleton let out a long breath and dropped his arm. The wide top of the femur clunked against the floor, leaving a small divot in the tile where it hit. He slumped, leaning on the femur, then drew in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

“Yeesh, that was close. You almost became a _Frisk-ka-bob_.”

A beat of silence, and then…

_“NYEH! SANS, THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR PUNS!”_

Papyrus puffed up, his right eye flickering with an erratic orange flame - the same one that you had seen when he destroyed the kitchen four days ago. He was standing ramrod straight, the top of his skull brushing the door frame, nearly dwarfing Undyne. The fish woman had drawn in on herself a bit, looking surprised at the uncharacteristic _angry_ tone to Papyrus’ booming voice. In your arms Pickles finally noticed the tense atmosphere and stopped his purring. He looked at the younger skeleton curiously, then at his master. Sans was looking up at the spear, brow furrowed as he tried to figure out how to reach the weapon. Pickles followed his gaze, saw the spear, and _lost it_.

The baby blaster jerked himself from your arms, dropping the badge to the floor, and lunged for Undyne once again. He was yipping and yapping like an infuriated terrier, and by the scandalized expression on Papyrus’ face you could tell he wasn’t using appropriate language. Sans, meanwhile, was grinning harder than ever, the corner of his sockets crinkled at the edge as he held back a laugh. Undyne took a step back as the floating skull got closer, instinctively raising a hand in front of her, though she avoided summoning a new spear.

After a very decisive stream of yips Papyrus gasped and clapped a hand around the baby blaster's muzzle, silencing him. “Pickles! We do not call our friends that!” He scolded, pulling Pickles to rest in the crook of his arm, tucked tightly against his chest armor, unable to escape. The blaster growled like a muzzled Rottweiler, but Papyrus held firm. “Sans, where did he learn such language?!”

“The other blasters probably taught ‘im,” Sans shrugged, dissolving his summoned weapon with a flick of his wrist and going back to staring at the spear, trying to puzzle out how to get it down.

“There are _more_ of those things?!” Undyne demanded, magic dancing along her fingers, though she resisted summoning another bullet.

“Of course,” Papyrus had stopped wrestling with Pickles and was now petting him, trying to soothe the anger out of the little skull. “San has at least a dozen, and I have three myself.”

“WHAT?” Undyne half-lunged across the room, eyes blazing. “Why haven’t you shown them to me before?” She demanded.

Papyrus shrugged, though he looked happy at the attention. “You told me a warrior does not show their strongest hand until they are in peril. I have never been in peril with you.” In his arms Pickles growled, not liking the evil fish-lady getting so close. Undyne stopped herself from noogying the skeleton and kept at least two feet between them, far enough away that she could move out of the way if the annoyed animal skull lunged for her again.

Seeing that the fish was sufficiently distracted, Sans moved to your side and discreetly nudged you back into your bedroom. You obeyed his elbow, backing up to sit on the edge of your bed. The older skeleton plopped down beside you, then sighed and laid back, throwing an arm over his eye. In the kitchen, Undyne and Papyrus argued over the definition of ‘peril.’

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, taking the moment of calm to collect yourselfs, until an uncomfortable little burble escaped your throat. You clapped your hands over your mouth to keep it down, but Sans had heard and had sat back up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We wouldn’t have let her hurt you,” he reassured you, moving his hand to rub circles on your back.

“I - I know,” you sucked in a deep breath, fighting back the panic, “It was just - I thought - Pickles was gonna…and then...”

“Thanks. For saving him.” Sans grew tense for a moment, before forcing himself to relax. “I dunno what I would do without the little guy.” He kept rubbing your back. There was nothing you could think to say to him that wouldn’t sound hollow, so you shut your eyes and focused on his phalanges brushing over your shirt as he tried to comfort you.

The discussion in the kitchen wound down, and by the time you’d fought off the urge to sob in fear Papyrus was poking his head in, checking on you.

“Frisk! How are you feeling?” He asked, released Pickles. The little skull nipped affectionately at Papyrus’ glove before zooming over to nose-boop you. He then snuggled up to your chest, and you wrapped him in a hug.

“I’m fine, Paps,” you reassured him, “It just _rattled_ me a bit.”

The tall skeletons face fell flat, though beside you Sans was snickering. Papyrus opened his mouth to berate his brother (and most likely you), but Undyne poked her head in, ducking under his arm to do so.

“You’re the human, right?” She asked, good eye gleaming as she took you in. “Sorry for the, uh, spear to the face. I wasn’t aiming for you. Swear.”

In your lap Pickles growled, and you tightened your hold just in case.

“It’s okay,” you told her, stroking the baby blasters head gently. “So, um, are you going to...capture me?”

Undyne opened her mouth to answer but paused, sharp teeth glinting as she pulled her lips back into a frown. “Nah. I’m off duty right now. And this isn’t my turf.” She gently nudged Papyrus to the side so she could stand properly in the doorway. “But if we were in Waterfall then yeah, totally!” She grinned widely, ear fins flaring. “When I meet you there, we’ll have a totally wicked fight, just like in the documentaries Alphys showed me!” She paused in her excitement and looked around the room. “Where’s your sword?”

“The human does not have a sword!” Papyrus chimed in. “But they have a stick!” That was true - the stick you’d found in the Golden Flower patch was laying on top of the dresser, untouched for several days now.

“Huh. Well - I’ll get Alphys to make you one! Then we’ll do it like they do in the anime!” She posed expertly, hands on her hips, and let out an ear aching ‘FUHUHUHUU!’ When there was no echo she paused and glanced at Papyrus. “C’mon, Pap, laugh with me!” She demanded. The skeleton obediently mimicked her pose and the two began cackling together.

You sniffed a bit, though there was a wide grin on your face. You’d forgotten how amazing Undyne was. Sure, she wanted to capture you, but when you got past all that she was a fierce, loving, loyal friend. Maybe you could become friends without the chase through Waterfall this time? You sniffed again, then paused, and drew in a deeper sniff. “Is something burning?”

Papyrus and Undyne froze, before the former shrieked. “MY PANCAKES!” He dashed back into the kitchen, Undyne trailing after him, yelling about how she’d turned up the heat to show Paps the true passion required to make pancakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely happy with this chapter. What do y'all think? 
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments, as always. Cheers!


	13. When I find myself in times of trouble, Papyrus Skeleton comes to me...

So, I do not know when I will be back to writing for this story. I have the next chapter 1/3 finished, but at the moment I’m not exactly in a safe head space and have lost a lot of my drive to write. 

Some of you know that I struggle with depression and anxiety, and yesterday while I was driving home from work it really hit me. I  _hate_ myself. It’s not a good thought. It’s not a positive thought. But I really, truly hate myself. I know I shouldn’t, I know I deserve to love myself, and that I am loved by others, but mental illness isn’t that easy to convince differently. 

And for the first time in years, I thought, “Wouldn’t life be better without me?” 

That thought terrified me, and had I not been on a narrow country road with no shoulders, I probably would have pulled over and had a panic attack. I've been passively suicidal since I was 14. (There are two types: actively suicidal (you have a plan, a method, etc, ready to go) and passive (I don't have a plan, but if a speeding car was heading for me, I may or may not step out of the way)). I have been doing really well, and hadn't thought of that for a while. As it was, I was able to work through it while driving, and push the thought and feeling away.

So as I stop at the grocery store to buy stuff to make, ironically, spaghetti, a quote came to me: 

**_Do what I would do, believe in you!_**  
  
Guys. Guys. I almost started bawling in the deli. I realized, while sniffling and trying to find the pasta sauce, that this fandom has done  _so much_ to help me when I’m down. This game - this silly, six-hour indie game - has been one of the best anti-depressants I’ve ever had. Papyrus (the monster, not my cat) is my favorite character, not because he’s goofy or prone to slapstick, but because he cares. He cares so much for everyone, and he believes in the good in everyone. He loves everyone, including himself. That is who I want to be. 

I was scared of sharing this with y’all, because it feels like I’m letting people down by not writing, but now I’m not. I know y’all understand, and I want to make sure each and every one of you knows: I love you. 

I love you all so, so much, even though I don’t know you. 

I love each and every one of you, and each of you is deserving of that love. 

I’ll be back with more chapters. I don’t know when, but I will be. And until I am, I’ll keep believing in myself. 

(Papyrus the cat is very concerned because I'm crying while writing this, and he wants you all to know that he loves you, too.)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I finally have time to begin re-writing this story! The reason it's being re-written: I actually have the plot roughly outlined now! I know where I want it to go, and how I want it to end! So over winter break I'll be writing and working on it as much as possible. 
> 
> I hope it lives up to expectations! Please let me know what y'all think!


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